Page 6 of Break Out the Girl

A force violently wrenches through my spine, cracking my ribs back into place with breathtaking force.

Snap.

I’m Taliesin Bevan once again. Charlie stands several yards away, white-faced. “Holy fuck, Bevan.”

No time. “Where now?”

The other jackals have gone. Charlie looks like he wants to flee too, but I see him stiffen his spine and swallow. “This way, we go down the ravine and there is a network of caves. No one knows about them apart from a few of us.”

Good. “We can leave him,” I indicate to François, “hidden there while I look for the other two.”

“Other two?” Charlie pants.

“Yeah. Fuck, what are you doing out here anyway?” I ask. We’re fifteen miles from Ashgrave and every Ashgrave kid grew up knowing never to go anywhere near Quo.

Charlie looks grim. “Jim’s missing. You know, Layla’s dad?”

What? “Fuck. Since when?”

“Three months now. We’ve been going out in teams. Starting to think a feral got him. That's why our crew was out here,” Charlie adds, wiping rain from his eyes. “We’re the only ones in the gang who can shift into something useful for a hunt. Most of the block back home either don’t shift, or are fucking squirrels or something completely useless.”

I glance back toward the mechanical roar of the ATVs. “So it’s unlikely the guards will turn into predators?”

“Duh. Screws are low-magic grunts, Bevan, you know that.” Charlie spits, ducking under a low branch. “But if they call in Elite peacekeepers? Then you’re fucked.”

I’ve got so many questions for Charlie but not enough breath to ask them all.

And in truth, I shouldn’t. I don’t want him mixed up in my shit. The kid has enough on his plate. “Can you point me in the direction of the caves? After that, you’ve got to get out of here.”

“No, man, I can stay. I’ll help,” Charlie pants.

“No, Charlie, I’m serious. If you get caught, you’ll get thrown in Quo for aiding escapees. Then who’d look after your sister?”

A look of pain crosses his face. “Fine, OK. The network starts right down there, behind that thick cluster of briars.” He points a finger into the dark.

I look from the ravine back to Charlie’s pale, exhausted face. The sirens are echoing off the rock-face. Are they closer?

“Thanks, Charlie,” I grunt, shifting my grip on François’s heavy, limp body. “Hopefully I’ll catch up with you soon. And I’ll be looking out for Jim.”

Charlie hesitates, then swallows hard, looks at the approaching searchlights flashing through the upper canopy, and nods once. “Good luck, Tally. Don’t let them drag you back.”

Before I can even reply, his bones let out that wet, sickening click-crack and he drops to all fours. With a low whine, he spins on his paws and vanishes into the thick brush, heading north toward Ashgrave.

I blink the rain out of my eyes and take off again.

Nothing is going to stop me finding Aurora.

But first I’ve got to dump de Vaux somewhere safe.

Relatively safe.

3: LONDON

I was born to faun.

It’s obvious. I’ve always felt the vibrations of people, plants, pots and pans, but now that ability is on steroids. The second my hooves hit the dirt, the earth turns into a thrumming bass speaker. Roots, soil, tectonic shivers—it all hums straight up into my bones.

But the loudest frequency in this whole damn forest?