Page 54 of Break Out the Girl

Wait.

It’s aiming straight for Rory!

“Shane! What do we do?”

He steps over the kids, and the next second, in an explosion of green whizzing magic, a massive, twisting column of iridescent, emerald-green scales emerge from his skin.

A colossal splash soaks us as old Shivery leaps into the water, then reappears looking like Nessie. His hundred-foot serpent cuts through the ocean as he charges directly into the path of the shark monster.

I’ve known Shane a long time now. I’ve seen him through all his ups and downs, and one thing’s for sure, if Shivery is on the case, the Jaws-monster is toast.

I’d better get back to my part of the operation.

“Anyone know ‘row, row, row your boat’?” I ask, as I start heaving on the oars again. “I’ll teach you the words if you don’t.”

Our little choir needs some work, as it’s mostly just me singing—in fact it is just me singing—but that’s OK.

These little peas will probably find their voices when they’ve had a little mother-henning from Kitty-cat.

18: AURORA

The shark-shifter—that hulking brute who dived off the superyacht’s deck—never even reaches our hull.

Because a monster intercepts him like a snake after its prey.

An apt metaphor.

François.

The realization slams into me, vibrating down the invisible, singing thread connecting my core straight to his.

The two beasts collide. It’s a deafening, wet, thunderous boom that sends a wall of spray crashing over our bow.

“Tally!” I scream, my voice raw as I point a shaking hand at the battling monsters. “Tally, that’s François! We have to—”

I don't even get the words out before a blinding explosion of green magic tears the fog wide open. Now I can see the true, terrifying scale of a top-tier predator fight.

It’s fucking ferocious.

A hundred feet of iridescent, emerald-green coils twisting and roiling through the swells. A gray paleolithic creature, all teeth and muscle fights back. I see its maw smash down onto François’s long torso in a tide of frothing white fury.

“Noooo! Get him!”

In the back of my awareness I hear the engines roaring. The boat swerves violently. What the fuck?

“Tally, stop. It’s François. Wait!” He’s going the wrong way.

I slide over to the other side of the boat, my eyes not wanting to leave François alone in his battle. The shark beast snaps its dangerous knife-like teeth again, while its muscular human arms claw at François’s thick green scales.

They roll together beneath the surface, a horrific, roiling mass of apex predators, before breaching the waves again in a violent spray of crimson-stained foam.

Is he hurt?

“Fuck me sideways,” Basil breathes, his goggles pushed up onto his forehead as he stares, harpoon still in his hand. “That’s, like, epic shit.”

“Hold on!” Tally roars over the deafening screams of the battle and the engine. His bare shoulders are tense, his knuckles white as he yanks the steering wheel hard to the starboard side. The speed forces both me and Basil to fall backwards as we jet away.

As soon as I can fight the g-force, I stagger to my feet and beat my fists against Tally’s back. “Turn around, you idiot! Didn’t you hear me? That’s François battling that monster.”