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But its eyes tracked me with a disturbingly human expression. Its face was bloated and its tongue swollen, but not so much that I couldn’t see humanity there. I knew with chilling certainty that this Draug had died young.
“What do you want?” I demanded, though I knew the thing wouldn’t answer me. It just kept prowling closer, while I kept edging away.
But it didn’t strike. It simply studied me, as though I were just beyond recognition. The inaction was freaking me out more than the attack had.
“What are you?” My voice sounded hysterical, and I checked myself. Calm. This thing was staring at me—did it have rational thought, too? I measured my tone. “Who were you?”
It didn’t like that. With a feral jerk of its body, it hopped to its feet. I shrieked.
The Draug walked just along the ledge, not caring about the drop—its eyes were only for me. I glanced from it, to the ledge, and back again, deciding there was no way to shove the thing over without falling myself.
It prowled closer, like a wildcat about to pounce. Whatever humanity I’d seen on its face was gone. The only thing in its eyes now was bloodlust.
It bounded for me, and I dodged it, jogging backward and reaching for my throwing stars. Thank God I’d worn my boots with my weapon of choice tucked in them. Last time I faced a Draug, I’d stupidly gone out unarmed. I rarely did that anymore, if I could help it.
Keeping my eyes glued to the monster, I slipped my fingers into the makeshift holster at my calf and touched them: four shuriken stars. I pulled them out, keeping my movements slow and smooth. I palmed them—my coldly perfect, reassuringly sharp, best-friend-forever steel.
The temptation was great to throw like a maniac. But I held still. Watcher Priti had taught me this. Cool deliberation. Monklike focus. I am roots in the earth. I am water that flows. I am grounded. I am Watcher.
I threw. My beautiful shuriken struck a perfect landing, sticking in the creature’s cheek. But the thing continued to stalk toward me, my star doing a sickening wobble in its flesh. I backed away. I threw again. My star lodged in its throat. And yet still the thing kept coming.
“I am grounded. I am Watcher. ” But I wasn’t a Watcher, not yet. And I worried I was no longer quite so grounded, either.
I had two stars left, one in each hand. I tightened my grip, and the razor-sharp steel cut into my fingers, but they were a part of me, and I didn’t care.
Where to target? Other words came to me. A stake through the heart does them in. There were no throwing stars in that sentence. I didn’t have a weapon to impale it. Surely there was another way to destroy a Draug.
It bared its teeth ever so slightly, the upper lip curling, trembling, revealing a mouthful of disturbingly white teeth. And a pair of fangs—they were small.
A Trainee. Or what was left of one.
My stomach lurched. This had been a boy, a teenager like me. I forced the thought from my head. His young fangs were no less deadly.
I had to do something. I targeted the left side of its chest. Maybe if I threw hard enough, I could nick the heart. I raised my hand to throw.
It leapt then. So fast. Too fast.
Before I could act, the monster had its arms around me, squeezing. Nails like talons sliced into me. Impressions flooded me—the sound of fabric tearing, a blast of cold, and then the warmth of my own blood, pulsing from my body, streaming down my forearm and at the small of my back.
The Draug grunted, a throaty, squealing sound, like a stuck pig. It shoved me away and jerked its head down, clamping its mouth over the wound on my arm. Its jaws worked spasmodically, trying to get purchase. I pulled away, and its fangs tugged my flesh as I wrenched free, leaving my skin ragged and torn. But its claws were in me again, piercing my upper arms.
My blood. I saw my blood running down the Draug’s face, watched that swollen tongue lick its lips clean, and I heard myself scream, the sound a hollow echo in my brain. The creature came at me again, hungry for my bloodied flesh.
My stars. I still had two stars. I wrestled one arm free and stabbed the monster. I’d aimed for the heart, but its face got in the way, and I slashed at the cheek instead, ripping it. The skin hung open, dangling from its jaw like something in a bad zombie movie. The thing let loose a terrifying sound, a growl as if it were the devil himself I’d angered.
The Draug swatted my hand, and the star flew from my grip. Tears stung my eyes, fear paralyzing me. The creature looked bloated and useless, but sheer, unfathomable strength drove its punch.
Was this how I’d die? I wished Emma were here by my side. I thought how Ronan would find my mangled body. I regretted that most of all.
We grappled, and the only thing that saved me from instant death was my size. I was tiny and wily in its bloated arms, but despite my desperate wriggling, I couldn’t manage to slip completely free.
I felt its fingers in my hair, yanking hard, craning back my neck, immobilizing me.
The Draug let go, but sweet relief was cut short when it grabbed my ear instead. It pulled until the skin tore at the seam, and that catalyzed me. It was such an odd thing to focus me—so specific, so surreal. But I was not going to lose an ear.
I still held one star. I couldn’t stake the Draug with it. But I could blind the thing.
I gripped the star hard, till I felt blood pool in my palm, and then I slashed at its eyes, and again, until there was a sickening pop, and blue drained from the Drau
