One
CHERYL
ELLNESARI, PRESENT DAY
“Shift back!” Ronan yells as the second nightmare on wings approaches us. “You’ll have better chances using a blade.”
I hate that he’s right. I heed his words and return to my human form. He tosses me one of his swords, and I prepare to face what’s coming for us—a horny, hornet-man aberration and what I presume is his girlfriend. Maybe they’re pissed because we interrupted their hookup.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Karl didn’t shift back.
“Karl, what are you waiting for?” I ask.
“He needs to go after Manu,” Ronan replies after a moment.
I turn to him, ignoring the two approaching monsters for a second. I need to see the expression on his face when I ask, “How do you know?”
He meets my stare, his face solemn and hard. “Because that’s what I’d do if I were in his shoes.”
My stomach bottoms out. His reply feels like a punch to my chest. I try to remain stoic and not show how deep his words cut, but my eyes well up with tears nonetheless. I look away, bitingthe inside of my cheek until I taste blood, hoping the sharp pain will distract me from the agony ripping my heart to shreds. The saddest and most infuriating part of being unable to control my emotions is that the asshole can sense them. I curse the day I begged him to turn me into a vampire.
Karl’s stance is aggressive, and his murderous gaze is focused on Ronan. He wants to rip his throat out, and I don’t blame him. I’ve had the same desire time and time again over the years. But we’re here for a reason. The sooner we find Manu, the faster we can get out of here.
“Go, Karl. Go save your mate,” I urge him before I square my shoulders and face the approaching threat.
Almost immediately, he takes off. I don’t need to look to feel the weight of his absence. But the monsters are upon us, and I don’t have time to dwell on it. The male monster points his arm-length stinger in my direction, and I expect it to operate the same way a hornet’s stinger does—meaning, it should need to pierce my skin to poison me. My assumption is wrong. A yellowish liquid shoots from it instead. I jump to the side, and the jet misses me by a hair. The monster is smart and remains out of my sword’s reach.
Ronan curses, and I glance in his direction. “Did you get hit?”
“No. But those things can attack from a distance, and we can’t.”
Our opponents begin to circle just above us. They aren’t spraying us now, which makes me think they need to recharge their stingers.
“We’re sitting ducks here. We have to attack from above,” I say.
“Agreed. Do you think you can make it to those trees?” He points toward a cluster of them.
Their trunks are like corkscrews spiraling skyward, and some of the branches spread far enough that they could work as a springboard.
“Yes.”
“Run, and I’ll distract them.”
I don’t ask how he plans to accomplish that. I just nod and take off toward my target. Ronan lets out a war cry, and a moment later, the buzzing from the giant hornet-like beings turns louder, making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I glance over my shoulder and realize whatever type of distraction Ronan attempted didn’t work. The female hornet creature is chasing me.
I push my legs to the limit and jump high when the first branch is within reach. The monster zooms right past me, scratching my cheek as she does. The wound feels superficial, but it stings like a mother. I push through the burning pain as I balance on the branch and prepare to cut that thing in two.
Down on the ground, Ronan grunts, but I can’t check on him. The bond between us is as strong as ever, meaning he’s not hurt or dying. The she-hornet monster is coming back, but because the upper branches are blocking her airspace, she can’t fly too high. She’s level with me. Perfect. I hold the sword behind my back while flexing my legs.
Come on, bitch. Come meet your end.
She’s not pointing her stinger at me, but her claws are at the ready. That’s how she plans to take me down. The buzzing gets louder, setting my teeth on edge. I grind my jaw, ignoring the urge to shift into my wolf form.
When the monster is three feet away, I swing my sword in a high arc and slice off the beast’s head. I’d yell in victory, but she was flying too fast, and cutting off the head doesn’t stop the forward motion. The stinger slices through my back, and I cry out before dropping from the branch.
“Cheryl!” Ronan yells.
The fall hurts, but not nearly as much as the laceration. It feels like acid was poured over my back. All my other senses fade, and the only thing I know is agony. I try to get back on my feet, but I barely manage to brace my forearms on the ground and lift my head.
