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The arms and face were the worst part. Heavily muscled, pale-skinned arms ended in paws that were some combination of bear, wolf, and human, with massive, glimmering claws hanging from each finger. The head was massive, like a bear’s, but the face had a vampiric complexion and shape. Though the jaw was elongated a bit like a wolf’s, when the thing opened its jaws, its vampire fangs were at least five times larger than they usually would be. The eyes were the yellowish frog-like orbs of a kappa.
I literally almost pissed myself. Nothing like this should have existed in nature. Whatever kind of magic had been at work here, I’d never seen the likes of it in any of my studies, which meant no one had ever seen anything like it before.
“What the fuck,” Wyatt muttered.
At the sound of his voice, the creature swung its huge head toward us. Jaws snapped open and shut twice, thepop-popsound echoing across the stone walls of the cave. But it didn’t rush forward to devour us as I thought it would. Then I realized why. The yellow eyes were coated in milky cataracts. It was blind. Whether from age or from whatever horrifying spell had done this, I didn’t care. It gave us a chance.
“It can’t see,” I said. The head swung toward me, trying to pin me down by hearing alone.
“Okay. Let’s do this,” Wyatt said.
As though it understood his words, the beast let out an ear-piercing shriek and lumbered forward, swinging those wickedly sharp claws at us. Tucking and rolling, I moved to the side. Wind blew past my face as it missed me by inches. When I came to a stop, I looked up at Wyatt, who lashed out with a kick, making contact with the arm and deflecting the thing’s claws. Before I could stand, the other arm swung out and caught Wyatt in the shoulder. Not a damaging wound, but three long gashes appeared in his muddy outfit. Trickles of blood oozed out as he danced back out of reach.
There was no way we had time to kill it. All I had to get was a sample, and then we could run. But how? I stood, ready to attack the thing from behind, but my foot caught on something. The sound of clattering metal rang through the cave. Looking down, I saw an ancient, rusty hatchet on the ground. Some tool from the first explorers of Bloodstone? Maybe a weapon used in a past season? I didn’t care—it was exactly what I needed. I scooped it up right as the creature spun on me. Its blind eyes gazed around dumbly as it tried to smell or hear me.
For its humongous size, it was fast as hell. The massive jaws snapped forward so quick that I barely had time to lean back. The teeth slammed together mere inches from my face, the stink of its breath almost making me gag. Before it could attack again, Wyatt leaped onto its back, wrapping his arms around the neck. He pulled back with all his might. The thing roared in anger and spun hard. The strength of its spin flung Wyatt off. He tumbled into a heap at the mouth of the cave.
With its back turned, I saw my chance. A strange tail hung from the thing’s lower back, like a wolf’s tail but hairless and almost reptilian in appearance. Before I could talk myself out of it, I rushed forward, hatchet held overhead. The tail dragged on the floor behind the creature, and when the ancient rusty tool slammed down on it, three inches of the tip sliced away. The impact snapped the hatchet to pieces.
The howl that filled the cave sent needles of pain into my ears, but I didn’t bother looking at the beast. I grabbed the chunk of tail and rolled under its swinging arms. The monstrosity was still bellowing its pain and rage as I sprinted to the edge of the cave where Wyatt was struggling to his feet, a heavy gash bleeding above his eyebrow.
“I have it! Move!”
Without questioning me, Wyatt hauled ass after me. Behind us, the obscene monster screamed even louder. It was huge and strong as hell, but at least it didn’t seem to want to leave its lair. It didn’t even attempt to follow us.
“We have to hurry,” I panted as we sprinted through the jungle. “Seven minutes left.”
“Are we gonna make it?” Wyatt asked.
“Maybe, as long as nothing stops us.”
Big tree leaves slapped at my face and my boots slid in the dead leaves, but I didn’t slow down. Wyatt matched me step for step, and I made sure not to leave him behind. There was no reason for me to reach the mansion if he was left out here alone. At least if we were stuck out here, we could try to survive together and find Haven on our own.
“What the… fuck… could make that thing?” Wyatt said, gasping. “There’s no way…. It was some… fluke of creature.”
He was right. That monsterhadto have been created with some twisted magic. A warlock or fae, maybe a witch or even a human with a magically powered item. But why the fuck would anyone want to create such a thing?
“I have… no idea,” I said, doing my best to save my breath. Shifters could run hard for a long time, but my strength was waning.
A faint memory of Zoe’s last letter trickled into my brain. She’d mentioned some guy, Simon Shingleman. The one experimenting on the creatures on the island and the people hiding in Haven when they were caught. Could that guy have created that monster? Icy dread trickled down my spine at the thought.
“Do you think the witches on the show somehow made it?” Wyatt asked as we passed through the swamp area again.
I glanced at the ever-present camera above us. “I doubt it. Von loves to get into detail on shit like this. If he knew exactly what it was, he’d have given a ten-minute description about all the ways it would rip our guts out and feast on our corpses.” I leaned close and lowered my voice so the microphone wouldn’t pick it up. “I have an idea about it. I’ll tell you when we get back.” I finished speaking right as the hovering camera shot down to try and pick up my words. I refrained from flipping it off, but only barely.
A giant griffin fluttered overhead, looking down at us. The gigantic wings flapped as it spun in a lazy circle. Thankfully, we were still coated in dried mud, so instead of attacking, he caught an updraft and soared away.
Our luck didn’t hold out for long. We were within sight of the mansion, with only two minutes left, when our path was blocked. Three snarling feral wolf shifters emerged from the jungle to stand in our way.
I felt an immediate tinge of sadness that none of them were Leif. He’d been turned feral, but maybe this time would have been different than the last. It would have been good to at least try to talk some sense into him. Instead, we faced these three things that were ready to rip our throats out.
One of the shifters leaped forward—obviously, the leader of their little pack—and the two others followed. Wyatt shifted and jumped into the fight, catching the biggest one before it could attack either of us.
The leader pounced, launching itself toward me with its mouth open, saliva-coated fangs shimmering in the late afternoon light. Without even thinking, I let my training and muscle memory take over. I jumped into a backflip, then spun, my right foot kicking out and catching the wolf in the throat. Cartilage cracked and collapsed beneath the toe of my boot, crushing the wolf’s windpipe. I landed on one knee, a single hand on the ground as the lead wolf collapsed, gagging and trying to breathe through its ruined throat. Ignoring it, I stalked toward the remaining wolf.
Even feral, it must have seen something in my eyes that let it know that discretion was the better part of valor. It whined, then bolted off into the jungle.
Behind me, a loud, painful yelp cracked through my focus. Spinning on my heel, I was ready to help Wyatt, but he was already shifting back to his human form. The wolf he’d fought limped away, blood pouring from massive wounds on its chest and back leg.
