Page 34 of When the Sky Breaks

“Love?” Neal reined the horse and turned as best he could to face me. “You awake again?”

I didn’t bother finding words, just nuzzled into his palm as he cupped my cheek. I managed to keep my eyes open as a sweet, gentle smile crossed his face.

“You called me love,” I mumbled, trying to get closer against him, seeking that comforting warmth.

“Yeah,” Neal murmured. “You’re finally letting me.”

I smiled, too tired to form a coherent response.

“You scared us there,” Neal murmured, fingers tangling into my hair.

“Where are we?” I croaked. “Where’s Ansel?”

“Three days ride from Austin now,” he replied. “Ansel’s finding us somewhere to stay before the storm hits.”

I looked over my shoulder, grateful for Neal’s steadying hands as I nearly lost my balance—heavy black clouds blanketed the horizon.

“How’s my fever?” I asked.

“You’re still sweating, so I think we’re okay,” Neal said, kissing my forehead. “I’ve got you. I’m not letting anything happen to you.” He moved a hand down from my face to my belly. “Either of you.” Neal dismounted easily and held his arms up for me. “Let’s get you off the horse. He needs a break anyways, you’re small, but the two of us is still a lot of weight for him.”

“You feeling better?” Ansel asked when he returned, crouching in front of me. I was nursing another cup of yarrow tea while Neal fussed over the rash on my leg and tried to find a pressure point he swore would help with the nausea.

“I’m conscious. That’s progress.”

“I found us a place to ride out the storm,” Ansel said. “Old abandoned mission ten or so miles out. We leave now we can get there before the worst of the weather hits.”

I nodded agreement and let Neal help me up, then saw a distortion on the horizon—like a heat mirage, but oriented perpendicular to the desert, not parallel.

“Am I getting dizzy or is something going on over there?” I asked.

Ansel turned immediately to look.

“That’s . . .” Neal trailed off as the flicker turned into a streak of white light splitting open the sky. He hurriedly helped me back into the saddle and swung himself up as Ansel scrambled onto his own horse.

“That’s a portal,” Ansel said.

“And those are tentacles coming out of it,” I added as lengths of muscled, sinewy purple flesh emerged from the shimmering patch of air. “Charming.”

“Which means we need to get out of here,” Ansel said. “Now!”

“Where do we hide from an eldritch monster?” I asked as we urged the horses faster. Our pack mules trotted behind, driven forward by sheer terror.

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” Ansel said.

I nodded again and felt my breath hitch—I could feel my temperature edging higher, the headache building behind my eyes. This was far from ideal timing.

“You okay?” Neal asked, glancing over his shoulder. The giant tentacled beast was making far faster headway than it had any right to.

“Define okay?” I managed through the fever haze quickly setting back in.

“We got a plan here, Ansel?” Neal asked, voice tight and edged with terror.

The beast, best I could tell from quick looks behind me, was a giant octopus with purple tentacles fifty feet long, covered in suction cups bigger than a man’s head. If anything I’d heard about regular, earth octopuses was true, this would be deadly. Never mind any horrible demon powers it might possess.

“Ansel!” Neal urged as I felt myself start to sway in the saddle.

“You two down that wash,” Ansel said, pulling something from his saddlebags. It was a long-barreled, repeating iron pistol—etched with runes that started to flare and glow as the creature approached. “I’ll handle this.”