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“How?” Aiden said, at the same time that Monty said, “Her blood.”
I nodded. “Using her blood to track her has somehow allowed her to gather far too much information about me. We’ll need to split up.”
“While her awareness of you is unfortunate,” Monty said, “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“We have no other choice. She’s torturing that poor guy in an effort to make me rush headlong into whatever trap she has waiting ahead. She’s got my measure—”
“She might have the measure of your regular magic,” Monty cut in, “but not the wild.”
“I can’t use the wild magic willy-nilly, and I certainly can’t use it to kill.”
Another scream. The Manananggal was desperate to keep me moving. Fear stirred, but I thrust it down. The wild magic had already proven that it could protect me against her magic.
“Our best chance of getting this bitch is to attack from two fronts,” I continued. “I’ll keep her attention on me while you two sneak around behind her.”
Aiden hesitated and then touched my arm and moved past me. Monty murmured a quick “be careful,” then followed Aiden into the scrub.
I took a deep breath that did nothing to ease the sick tension within, then did a sharp left and crashed through the scrub. The noise echoed, and the sense of anticipation sharpened.
No more screams rent the air, but the pulse of death was sharper—closer. Time was almost up for the colorful stranger; even if we could wrest him from the ghoul’s grip, life was not now guaranteed…
I thrust the thought away. While there was life, there was always hope.
Remember that, an inner voice said, when Clayton crashes through your world…
My fingers clenched involuntarily, making the spell fizz brightly. I took another deep breath and pushed past the terror that particular premonition raised. One danger at a time; one monster at a time.
The smell of blood sharpened abruptly. I paused and scanned the scrub ahead of me. There was nothing to indicate a trap about to be sprung; no spell threads, no pulse of magic, and absolutely no sign that a monster was close.
But she was.
And so was the stranger. It wasn’t just the smell of blood that was strong now. The stench of his agony filled my nostrils and burned across my senses. He lay in the clearing just beyond the thick line of bushes ahead of me.
The Manananggal, however, was in the sky. I might not be able to see her, but I could sense her. Could sense her thickenin
g desire to rip my heart from my body and taste the power in my blood.
I took another of those useless deep breaths and hoped like hell that Monty and Aiden had managed to get around the back of her. We needed to end this—end her—tonight.
I pushed through the bushes and then stopped on the edge of the clearing, the spell fizzing brightly around my fingertips. The stranger was missing the brown shoe, and his bare foot was torn and bloody. His orange cardigan had been shredded, as had the shirt underneath. His exposed torso was bloody and torn, his innards oozing out across his stomach. The Manananggal might be capable of finesse, but she’d not used it here.
Because of me. Because she wanted to feed on me. On my heart. On my blood.
My gaze jumped skyward. I couldn’t see her, but that was unsurprising given she was magic capable. There were plenty of invisibility spells out there; you just had to have the power to perform them. This bitch obviously did.
To draw her out, I’d have to step away from the trees and into the target zone.
I scanned the trees lining the other side of the clearing. Though I couldn’t see Aiden or Monty, a familiar scent had my nose twitching. They were close. And waiting.
My gaze fell back to the gutted stranger. Saw the rapid rise and fall of his chest. While there was life, there was hope… but only if we hurried.
I briefly closed my eyes and then, before courage fled, strode out into the clearing.
I’d barely taken five steps when the spell rose around me, a powerful wave of deadly intent. I dove away from the tendrils of energy that reached for me, seeking to bind, to hold. To cage.
I hit the ground hard enough to force a grunt of pain, then became aware of the rush of wind. Looked up, and saw a nightmare.
One that trailed its intestines behind it like a tail and whose bat-like wings ended in claws thicker than my wrist.
