The cyclops staggers, emitting a guttural growl, before retaliating with a powerful sweep of its massive arms. Shadow barely dodges, and the two continue their deadly dance of attack and evasion.
From across the room, Miguel stirs. "Evie!" he cries, trying to crawl over to where I lay.
Relief punches me in the chest at finding him conscious. I’d thought he’d been killed. The weight of his death would drown me, but no.He’s okay, I assure myself. I can still save him.
I manage to raise a shaky hand and motion for him to stay back.
"Don’t come closer to us," I cry out.
Miguel hesitates, head cocking to the side.
"Us." I see him repeat rather than hear it.
His gaze swings between the monsters and me with measuring looks. Understanding dawns in his eyes.
He knows. He may not understand, but he knows.
This is the world I belong to. It's dangerous, dark, out of this world, and far beyond his depth.
The muscles in his shoulders tense and I can tell he’s torn between his impulse to help and the realization he’s completely in over his head.
Even in the face of monsters, Miguel has the instincts of a hero.
A lump in my throat tells me I want to want him. Who wouldn’t want to be with someone like that?
Me.
My devotion is tied to the scary clawed tentacle creature that roars and rips chunks of flesh off his opponent.
The last thing I want is for Miguel to get hurt because of my ties to a world he never should've known.
"I’m sorry,"I mouth to him.
Though he can’t possibly understand, Miguel nods almost imperceptibly.
He scrambles toward the exit with one last glance. My eyes are glued to his form as he makes his way between dodging claws, flying tentacles, and crashing furniture. He steps from the exit when the Cyclops lashes out at Shadow in fury. A monstrous ropey arm sweeps out and connects with Miguel.
My heart stops as time slows down to a sickening crawl. Miguel flies backward into the restaurant. The impact is jarring, his head slamming into the wall with a sickening thud that echoes through the space, blood spattering like macabre graffiti.
Someone is screaming. Screaming Miguel’s name.
It’s me.
I can’t stop even as I rush over broken pieces of furniture. I have to get to him. His body lays slack on a table.
No, not his body. He’s more than a body, he has spirit and life.Miguel is fine, I try to tell myself, even as tears uncontrollably blur my vision.
I slip and stumble over shattered furniture and debris. Blood oozes from his head as he lays motionless on a table.
I pull him to me as soon as I reach him. Another sob seizes my ribs. He’s still breathing, but hurt bad. Pulling him onto my lap, my hand is instantly slick with blood from cradling the back of his head. His eyes flutter open for a moment before falling shut again.
Muscles stiff with terror, I cling to him as I try to calculate a way to get him out of here. He needs a hospital.
Shadow and the cyclops are still locked in battle—every move, every attack and counterattack echoes the primal rage that fuels them. The walls shake around us even as I hold Miguel to me, trying to keep him safe.
The cyclops lunges, massive fists swinging like wrecking balls. Shadow nimbly avoids the first blow but is grazed by thesecond. He’s thrown off balance long enough for the creature to jump on him and bite deep into him. The monster rips chunks of Shadow’s body off before spitting the hunks of flesh onto the floor.
Black scaly skin covering bright red muscle with oozing black blood hits the tile with sickening splats. More and more of Shadow is ripped off by those needle-sharp teeth then spat onto the ground. Deafening roars turn my ears into ringing canals of pain.
