Page 29 of Maneater

Strangled cries escape me as I frantically attempt to get my feet under me again, desperate to escape my crush-turned-maniac.

“Stop, Darien, please! Let me make sure you’re okay.”

Rex wraps his arms around my waist, and I scream for help, pounding his chest and arms with my fist, wriggling like a helpless puppy in his arms.

“Darien,” Rex’s voice shakes as if he’s on the verge of sobbing. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I’ll let you go, but don’t run. You could seriously hurt yourself, and I’d be devastated.”

His plea gives me pause. Devastated? And he’s got a point about me tearing through the wilds. We’re high up enough that I could crash through the trees and over the edge of a precipice where I’d fall to a gruesome death. Maniacs can be reasoned with.

I hope.

I relax in his arms, and he sets me on my feet before taking a few steps back, giving me some personal space. I observe his hand wringing, downturned mouth, and teary eyes, and I almost laugh. You’d think I was the one terrorizing him.

After the weirdest awkward silence of my existence, I clear my throat. I’m ready to talk myself out of this mess, go back to LA, and embrace the city life.

“Look, I overreacted, okay?” I force myself to smile like it’s no big deal. “I mean, I’m a newbie to this area. What do I know?” I chuckle, but it’s a bit high-pitched. “You’re the expert.”

Rex runs his hands across the top of his head. “Boone is going to kill me,” he mutters.

I frown. “Who’s Boone?” I shoot up my hand, bleeding palm out. “Never mind. Don’t need to know.”

Rex’s shoulders slump, and he really is looking more pitiful all the time. I need to remain alert. Just because he appears so sad and harmless, he’s still an enormous man who could crush me on a whim.

“Yeah, I don’t think telling you about Boone or any of the other guys would help.”

I want to ask if he’s a member of the local chapter of deranged dudes but manage to contain myself.

“So…” My hand is stinging like a mofo, but I inconveniently left my pack with the first aid kit when I was running for my life. “I think I should get going.”

Rex is between me and my pack, which I’ve now decided isn’t all that important. He points to my hands.

“You need to clean that up.” He winces. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I really thought you were ready to hear the truth. I should’ve kept my stupid mouth shut.”

My heart softens. He’s convincing—I’ll give him that. Yet something makes me want to believe him. Probably my own insanity. But if nothing else, I’m starting to believe he won’t hurt me. What he said about finally connecting with someone who truly cherishes everything that’s wild and free resonates. Before he blurted out his bizarre confession, I felt the same about him.

“It’s okay,” I say before I can stop myself. “I shouldn’t have freaked out the way I did.”

Rex shakes his head, his eyebrows pinching together. “No, you had every right to do that. I’ve never shared my secret with a human before, and I went about it all wrong. Blurting it out was a foolish move.”

Now I’m feeling sorry for the guy. The adrenaline has also worn off, and I’m getting a bit light-headed. Maybe I can chance going back to the creek so I can sit down and at least clean my scrapes and put on a bandage.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine how difficult it would be to tell someone you’re a…you know, Howler.” I feel ridiculous saying it out loud. “I think I need to get a drink of water, though, and sit down for a minute.”

Rex can’t seem to stand still as he fidgets back and forth on his feet. “Of course, I’m so sorry. Let’s go back to the creek and take care of those scrapes.”

He gestures for me to go ahead, but I stay stuck to the spot. I might be less terrified of him, but I’m not ready for him to be creeping up behind me.

We make our way back to the creek, the silence between us a tangible thing. I can't look him in the eyes, so I focus instead on retrieving my water bottle and first aid kit. I start as Rex comes up beside me.

“Here.” He hands me a small jar of a bluish green substance, a cream of some sort. “This will disinfect your scrapes and heal them up quickly.”

I accept the little jar, noting that it seems quite old. The ornate glass container is about the size of a plum, with a pewter lid featuring odd etchings. At first, I think it’s a random design, but when I squint my eyes, the markings appear to be runes.

“What is it?” I unscrew the top and am met with a pungent, medicinal aroma. The smell isn’t bad, but I can’t place the herbal content. Clearly, this is something he made. “I’ve never seen a salve like this before.”

“The local healer makes it, but only for me and others of our kind.”

Here we go again. “Right.” I sniff it once more before applying a thin layer to one palm. “I suppose you’re going to tell me next that it’s magical.”