“Miss Gibson,” the closest man to her warns. His voice shakes just enough for me to pick up on it, and his finger trembles next to the trigger, though I can’t tell if it’s from fear of her or what she’s about to say next.
“What? You afraid I’m gonna give it a mouth, deputy?” A crazed smile appears on her face. She raises her hands to her chest, revealing a pocket knife in one. She casually flips out the knife and picks at her nails. “Now one of you? One of you goes missin’, and it’s all hands on deck. Come hell or high water. Won’t leave no rock unturned.” She scoffs and spits into the dirt.
She goes silent, staring, daring any of them to tell her she’s wrong. My little bug’s last stand. A stammer of protest starts to come from one using a car to shield his body, but a quick glare from her, and he’s silent again.
“We all get what we deserve.” Her voice is eerily calm and confident.
A low, unsettling hum builds from the woods and spreads across the clearing. The Earth below us begins to shudder as ripples of energy roll beneath me and a breeze whips through the air. Her hair blows in wild strands, mixing with the shadows around her.
Mattie’s eyes flicker to where I’m hidden among the trees before she lets out a fervent howl, a painful sound full of heartache and fury. Then, before I have time to comprehend what she’s about to do, she charges. Her legs push her at full speed, knife out, towards the closest deputy.
Humans have long speculated about how their world will end. From what I’ve seen of humanity, fire seems to be the most logical choice. Time slows. Bullets rain down on her in an unavoidable hailstorm. Shouts and gunfire mix to form an overwhelming crescendo. Her scream pierces the air, but it’s not from pain or fear. It’s a battle cry, her mating call to me and a warning to the rest of this place.
Knowing how this ends doesn’t keep my being from twisting and wrenching at the sight of her agony. Pain rips through me as every piece of hot metal sears her flesh. It seals her fate. This is how it has to be. I keep repeating it like it will ease the violence resounding inside me like a thunderstorm.
The cloud of dust, gunpowder, and chaos looms thickly over her body on the ground. Panic grips me by the throat. Why hasn’t she risen from the ashes yet? Completed her transformation and ascended to take her revenge? A roar explodes from me as I rush to her. Those who weren’t rendered unconscious by the shockwave of my anguished cry fall at the sight of me. My vines and shadows throw their limp, useless bodies from my path. Lightning crashes angrily in the sky above. Pure madness pulses through me as I take in her crumpled form.
“No,” I growl. The word is a demand, a cry, a prayer to anything that would listen to a creature like me. “No,” I say, softer this time, as I pick up her broken body in my skeletal arms. I try to take an inventory of the damage, but there’s too much blood. The vial around her neck is now shattered. All that remains are tiny slivers of glass embedded around a hole in the center of her chest. Strings of shadow snake through her blood. Desperation takes hold of me, and I try to use one claw to push it back inside her.
“Ripp,” she whispers, so low, I almost miss it through my wails. Her eyes flutter open as her brilliant green eyes struggle to focus and a pained grin tugs at her lips. “It’s alright.”
Tiny flecks of blood speckle her face, and I can see the crimson hue of her mouth as she struggles to speak past the dark liquid beginning to pool in it. She coughs, more blood bubbling up from her wound, and I hold my paw against it, as though it could stop it. A raspy noise comes from her throat instead of a breath. “No, Mattie Mae,” I command her, hoping her name will save her, save us. “I’ll tear off every piece of my wretched body until yours is whole again.”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head, bringing her hand over mine on top of her chest. “Ripp,” her voice comes again between rattling breaths that are too far apart. “Let me go.”
My hand drops at her command. Something inside me shatters, and I can only hope that at least one of the pieces go with her. With one final sigh, her body sags lifelessly against me. My little bug is gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
mattie
Nothing but soothing silence engulfs me. Limitless quiet consumes me. The calming feel of the water surrounds me. I can just make out the twinkle of the lightning bugs above the surface. Everything is peaceful, and nothing hurts.
A delicate pounding comes from my chest, like the beat of a heart.Only, instead of a rhythmic thud, it’s more like a constant crashing of waves against the shore.The water around me grows inky and dark, but I’m not afraid. I allow the current of shadows to carry me up towards the lights, towards the pull of the woods that I know waits for me just beyond the surface.
My eyes open.The brightness of my surroundings comes into focus. Dark blurs form into trees. The ground becomes solid beneath my bare feet. The fabric of my white nightgown brushes across my skin in the breeze. I feel the weight of a crown upon my head and I lift it off to see it’s the same as the one in my dream. I place it back and feel the stubs of antlers through my hair as I do.
Anguished wails draw my gaze to the clearing just before me. Dust hangs heavy in the air. Bodies lie in the dirt, strewn between cars. A large, hunched figure heaves with each cry in the center of the chaos. Ripp.
I take a few careful steps into the light before I recognize the scene I’ve entered. Ripp, my stranger, holds the shell of my body against his chest. He strokes the hair of the broken body and whispers promises in a language that feels familiar, but I can’t make out the words. I inch my way forward until I’m close enough to reach out to the shadows that swarm around him. I twirl my fingers through them, and they dance around my hand in recognition.
“Ripp,” I whisper. His head jerks up at my voice, and his bony jaw falls slack as he turns to meet me. We’re a mess of bramble, shadow, and mist as his form contorts to mirror my human appearance. His eyes, icy pools of blue that I’d allow myself to drown in over and over again, reappear. They widen like he has never laid eyes on me before, and his arms wrap around me. He clutches me to his chest before lifting me, spinning us in circles. I laugh, and a joyous sound I’ve never heard come from me echoes across the clearing. There’s no longer any undercurrent of anger or sadness to the sound.
Once my feet touch the Earth again, Ripp holds me out like he’s looking for any signs of hurt. His finger rises to my chest. He traces along a faint silvery scar, shaped like a jagged starburst. It starts in the center of my chest, and veins spider out from it like tiny bolts of lightning. It takes the place where the vial he gifted me used to rest. Understanding flashes through his eyes as he looks back to me. His bottom lip quivers, like he can’t find the right words. Instead of speaking, I step into him and lift up on my toes until his mouth meets mine.
The outside world fades away as my lips part for him. His tongue crashes into my mouth needily, and I twist mine against his, taking turns with whose mouth we explore. Our teeth clack together as our hunger builds. I bite into his bottom lip, sucking it between my teeth before soothing it between my own lips. His taste is smokey and spiced, like warm cider that eases my aching body on a cold night. Even the touch of his skin against mine feels different from before.
Ripp pulls back, and my body shudders from the loss. His hands come to my face, cupping them under my chin. “Look at you,” he murmurs. “My angel of death has come back to me.”
I give him a wicked smile. My cheeks rub against his palms, sending sparks of electricity down my body. “You’ll have to try harder next time.”
Ripp growls, tightening his grip. His eyes burn like blue flames behind his heavy lids. “There will be no next time, little bug.” His face leans down until I can feel air blow hot against my skin with each word. “You’re mine now, for all time, until the Earth is nothing more than bones crushed into dust.”
“What do we do now?” My eyes dart behind him to my cabin and the remnants of a life that’s no longer mine.
“We return this to whom it belongs.” He gestures toward the cabin as vines snake up from the ground, breaking through wood and the remaining breeze blocks. Bramble and brush spread in a thick covering across the gravel, breaking through the broken planks of the porch. A cloud of mist and dust rises, coating the cabin until the windows are only stained panes of glass and the wood ages decades in the blink of an eye. Every ghost of my past, every shred of evidence of a life before this one, bends and falters to the unforgiving woods.
“But what about them?” I ask, pointing to the closest unconscious man. Ripp shrugs then chuckles, but I continue to stare at him.
