Page 98 of Bloodgrove

“Eric, please,” Will begged, raising the knife with a trembling hand.

There was no answer.

The instant the monster leaped, Will shifted his weight, memories of fencing lessons taking over, and thrust his arm toward the attack.

Pure, gods-sent luck guided the blade.

The knife sank into the monster’s shoulder as Will stepped aside. The beast recoiled with a roar.

But rather than slowing it, it only fed its frenzy.

Its eyes seemed ready to burst from their sockets, its body trembling with madness. The paw moved too quickly to avoid and struck Will so hard that he was hurled across the table.

Glasses, candlesticks, and plates crashed to the floor with him.

Will screamed with pain.

On the other side of the table, the beast tore the knife from its shoulder.

This was his chance.

Will ran.

Blind with fear, he forgot the way to the kitchen and the only other exit. Too late, he realized he had reached a corner of the grand townhouse he had never explored. An unremarkable door opened, and he stumbled into the darkness beyond.

In his panic, he didn’t notice the familiar scent, but he knew he had reached a dead end.

He took another step, perhaps two, when a lantern suddenly flared to life. Another followed. Soon, the glow of a handful of lamps illuminated the room. Will wanted to cry. The darkness might still have hidden him. But what stopped him, drawing him for one moment out of the spiral of fear, was the sight before him.

A library.

Brown shelves, intricately carved, rose across two floors. Tall pointed windows looked out over the city, sleet rattling against them. Before a large fireplace stood a bed in the middle of the room, blankets and pillows piled chaotically across it. Clothing racks stood between some of the shelves, crowded with gowns. Dresses covered the floor as well, carelessly discarded or draped over chairs.

So this was where Elodie slept.

She had built herself a kingdom inside the library. How had Will missed it? He had studied the plans for so long, and nothing had suggested its existence. Yet everything about it was unmistakably her. It hurt to think that he might meet his end beside her red ball gown, watched by the pearl eyes of her costume, its hooks carelessly caught in the carvings of the bookshelves.

In the mirror of the dressing table, Will saw his own face—and the black corridor behind him.

Damnation. He could not die here. Elodie needed him.

He searched for a weapon, anything, even a letter opener or nail file, when the darkness in the corridor moved, and the monster sprang through the doorway. The weight collided with Will and threw him to the floor. His head struck the boards hard.

Above him, the beast roared. Will tried to crawl away on all fours, anywhere, only away, but an enormous paw pinned him to the floor, its weight crushing the air from his lungs. A strangled cry escaped him. He had to call his magic—no matter how deeply the Albatross had betrayed him.

He felt the heat of the body above him, heard its breath rasping in his ears. Adrenaline burned through his blood.

“Please,” Will managed through clenched teeth. Some madness inside him still believed Eric was hiding somewhere beneath all of this.

But there was no bargaining with this monster anymore. The paw tore the shirt from his body, only to press its claws into the naked skin of his back. Nails dug into his flesh.

Will searched for his magic, for the taste of salt upon a cold northern wind, somewhere inside his chest.

“Eric,” he gasped. “Eric, please.”

Only a wild growl answered, and the monster lowered itself over him. Hot thighs pressed against his, damp breath sweeping across his skin. The second paw caught in his hair.

The pain in his scalp vanished beneath what came next as teeth sank into Will’s shoulder. The long fangs pierced deeply, but the rest bit into his skin as well, searching for blood. A tongue swept over the wound, and then Will felt the pull.