“I’m not giving you the satisfaction of chasing me. You’re gonna have to bite off my head right here. Not as much fun, huh?”
The mare snarls, a sound more appropriate for a panther than a horse. Her bared teeth approach my face. Her breath isn’t foul or hot—it smells like the pond, cool and faintly fishy, with hints of aquatic plants.
I force myself to stare at that long, elegant face, right into those unearthly eyes.
A few seconds later, she lowers her muzzle, bumping it against my upper chest. Her nostrils flare against the flannel of my shirt, and her eyes widen, showing glossy whites.
Slowly I lift one hand and place my palm against her cheek. She shudders and lifts her head, stamping one forefoot. Then she brings her nose down to my chest again, inhaling my scent.
I stroke the wet velvet of her cheek, and this time she doesn’t pull away. Her teeth stay bared, and she starts nudging harder against my chest, pushing me backward, like she’s about to start gnawing through my breastbone down to my heart.
My back hits a tree trunk.
She’s nibbling at my shirt, snagging and tearing it with those sharp teeth. Her fangs nick my skin, and she licks the blood. Her huge body trembles, and an eager moan reverberates through every inch of her.
Yeah, I’m going to die.
“Okay,” I say gently, taking her face in both hands. “Okay. It’s not a bad way to go, I guess. Can you make it quick though? They say my uncle didn’t feel a thing. I’d rather not feel too much.”
She sinks the tips of her fangs into my left pec. It fucking hurts, but I don’t move. I pet her nose, taking pride in the fact that my fingers aren’t shaking. “Damn, you’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You’re just starving. It’s okay, beautiful. Better me than someone else. I got no one who’ll miss me.”
The horse stops and pulls back, her teeth leaving my flesh, her eyes boring into mine.
She takes a step back, like she’s rethinking her choices. Then she shakes her head violently and her mane ripples, throwing off more sparkling drops.
She retreats another step. It’s difficult for her, but she’s forcing herself to back off.
Hooves hammer against the forest ground, and a second horse bursts out of the trees to my right. This one has sharp teeth, too, and its eyes glow rosy red. Streaks of luminous scarlet decorate its mane and tail. Its jaws gape wide, saliva flying from glittering fangs.
It’s aiming for my throat.
The first horse intercepts the newcomer—plunges forward and slams her shoulder against the second horse, knocking it aside.
“Yup,” I mutter. “Time to go.”
I run for the spot where I left my fishing rod. I’ve never packed up my gear so fast or so messily, but I refuse to leave it behind. The screams of the two battling horses echo through the forest as I finish up, and when I turn around, they’re leaping and rearing and striking at each other with their hooves. It’s wicked and wild. I almost want to stay and watch, but my survival instincts tell me to get far, far away.
Common sense wins.
As I jog away from the pond, toward the dirt road where I parked my truck, I hear a shrill cry, a long wail searing through the night sky, and I know instinctively that it’s her. The first horse.
I throw my gear into the truck, hop in, and start the engine. I hit the gas immediately and roar off the grass onto the road while gravel spatters from under the tires.
My high beams turn the forest into an eerie mix of yellow and black, glare and shadow. I veer around a curve, then press the gas deeper once I have a straight path ahead.
Something is whizzing through the trees on the left side of the road. It’s a horse with reddish eyes, but it’s not galloping so much as soaring, bounding, half-flying. My driver’s side window is partway down, so I hit the button to raise it. Not that the glass would protect me much.
The front of my shirt is torn and soaked with blood, and I’m starting to feel the pain. But my adrenaline is too high for it to bother me much. My priority is staying alive.
The horse on the left is moving past my truck. There’s a spot ahead where the trees thin out, and I just know when I reach that point, my pursuer is going to leap out and try tothrow me off the road. With the horse’s size and apparent strength, it could probably manage that.
I glance to my right and spot another horse—the blue-eyed one. I’m the prey, caught between two rival predators. I floor the gas and hope the engine can take it.
The horses both leap at the same time. A hoof rebounds from the hood of my truck, and I swear I hear a bone snap. I swerve, avoiding the worst of their collision with each other. As they tussle behind me, I drive away into the night.
My pulse hasn’t slowed an hour later, when I’m safely on the highway, headed back to Crescent Cove. It’s still high when I drive through the invisible wards that protect the town.
As a supernatural who occasionally visited Lou as a kid, I’m familiar with the barrier. It keeps non-resident humans out of the town, except during special events like music festivals, holiday fairs, or the occasional surfing competition.
