They reach for me, but I leap out of their grasp, launching myself headfirst into the overgrown plant bed.
A series of growls and whimpers tells me Kerri isn’t faring much better.
I claw at the earth, scrambling away from the gates. The snapping roots of the rare, stubborn plants I’ve spent most of my life caring for twist my stomach.
I dart between the bushes until I burst onto the limestone path leading back to the well-lit porch. I’m between Kerri and the house now, and the black wolf retreats. Lacerations in her fur ooze dark, burgundy blood.
Kerri keeps her eyes locked on our attackers as she inches backward, closing the space between us, but for every step she takes, they bridge the gap. She’s too far away.
My jaw clenches before I rip the metal rod holding up the birdhouses Nick and I painted when we were younger out of the ground. Half-mad, I charge forward to spear the monsters—anything to buy Kerri enough time to flee.
She finally spins around, but one of the faceless men detaches from the mist and sucker-punches her from behind.
Kerri’s hide melts away, revealing her human body—naked, trembling, drenched in cold sweat. The hand of the monster bursts through her abdomen, clawing its way out.
Blood sprays from her belly, pooling at her feet.
“Kerri!”
Her mouth opens, forming a big ‘O,’ before she breathes, “Run.”
A desperate cry tears out of my lungs as I spin around and run, my heart beating wildly in my throat. The creature simply…ripped her open. Just like that.
As I reach the three wooden steps leading up to the porch, long nails sink into my ankle, shackling me. I crash forward, landing flat on my face. The French doors sway in the wind, inches away.
A sickening chill washes over me. A tingling sensation tickles my toes, ankles, and knees, as though a swarm of frozen insects is crawling over my skin. I glance over my shoulder, but there’s nothing there. Only the monster who stopped my escape, sprawled on the ground in much the same predicament I am.
The lights in the house flicker wildly.
A nasty bruise blooms on my bottom lip as I crawl forward, dragging myself up the stairs. The claws of the monster tear at the tender flesh of my calf. Lady crouches into a fighting stance on the porch, hissing and roaring at my aggressor, her fur spiking. She launches herself at the creature, raising all hells, and I break free.
Mabel always said the house was the safest place to be in a crisis. An unintelligible curse tears out of me as I push myself past my limits until my upper body crosses the threshold.
An outragedmeowechoes in my ears, followed by the rush of paws thundering inside and up the stairs.
Lady tried her best.
Claws squeeze my hamstrings. I kick the grimy hand preventing me from escaping to no effect, the creature slowly dragging me back outside, inch by inch, like it’s got all the time in the worlds. I grab the leg of a nearby display table for purchase and knock down the potted plants and heavy bronze lantern that were set on it.
The solid antique lantern is the only weapon at hand, and I ram it over the head of the faceless man. Its stained glass panels shatter, and a flash of blinding light floods the porch. The pressure on my leg relents.
White spots dance in front of my eyes, but I manage to scamper all the way inside the house.
I crawl to my feet, holding myself against the wall, eyes wide, my breaths coming in short bursts. My lips are swollen, my lower leg flayed and gushing blood, but the monster stops his approach, unable to cross the rowan threshold.
A shard of blue-stained glass from the broken lantern is embedded deep in my palm, and I wince at the depth of the cut. My heart is in tatters. The shrill whistle of the forgotten kettle anchors me back to reality, and I hobble to the stove.
Theclickof the gas switch shudders through me as I risk a glance back outside to where the creatures still lurk. Their faces are angled toward me, skeletal arms hanging limply at their sides, like a bunch of robots put on hold.
The phantom’s cold voice thunders in my mind once more. It doesn’t even sound remotely annoyed, just amused, as though my escape provided welcome entertainment in an otherwise easy fight.
“Come, my reavers. Bring the witch. The girl is out of our reach for now.”
Chapter 2
Little Fox
E
