Wake up, wake up, wake up!
Then I heard it . . .
Click-click.
Click-click.
Click-click.
Click-click.
The bony, human-sized tarantula crept down the wall, inching toward Pogue’s body.
It halted. Onyx eyes whipped in my direction, cementing me in place. Its neck twisted with a shocking, audible crack. Itsmouth opened unnaturally wide. Brittle, broken teeth flashed in the dim light as it released a high-pitched hiss.
I flinched. My hands shot up to cover my ears.
It wasnotpleased by my presence.
My foot involuntarily stepped back.
Its body began to crack, pop, snap. Bones contorted, reshaping back into that frail old man again. He hunched over, gazing at Pogue’s body. A hand shot out, lingering above his chest. A soft glow of energy, molten and vibrating, began to steadily lift out of Pogue.
Fucking hell . . . it was hissoul!
Glimmering plasmic energy radiated to the surface of his skin.
Snap!The creature’s jaw opened again. Animalistic and wide. The most haunting sight. As if it were about to?—
“Don’t!” I shouted, startling even myself as I lunged forward with my hand raised.
A rattling started deep in its chest—or maybe its belly. I couldn’t tell. The large, gaping mouth shrunk. Slightly working, as if warming up.
“The darker the soul,” it wheezed, ominously, “the more irresistible.” A petrifying grin stretched across its face, head tilting unnaturally. “The smell. The taste. It’s delicious . . .addicting.” Blackhole eyes studied me, curious and amused. “Don’t you agree?”
He was going to eat his soul.
He was going toeat . . . Pogue’s . . . fucking . . . soul!
I swallowed. My throat grew thick, a lump swelling.
“Let him go.” I muttered, forcing the tremble out of my voice.
A shiver rolled through Pogue’s floating body. His diaphragm spasmed, as a child’s would after along period of sobbing. A body moving on muscle memory alone, recalling profound torment.
A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
My chest squeezed. I could feel it—another wave of pain.
God, he must’ve been trapped in some hallucination, or torture. All so this disgusting creature could play black widow and feast on him like a fly stuck in a web.
My eyes swept around the chamber—its lair. Some ancient, spider creature, demented by hunger, who’d feed on?—
My mind stalled, puzzle pieces falling.Click. One by one.Click. They settled into place.
TheGorta. TheHungry Grass. They were real.
His moral compass may have been broken, but Pogue didn’t deserve to die. Especially not like this. And I could try and hide it all I wanted, but there was an undeniable pull between us. Some energy I didn’t understand. Aconnection.
