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“Stop,” I hissed. “Why are you acting like such a prick?” It was supremely unfair how fast he healed given how high-handed he was being. I should have stabbed him twice before going down.
“You need to run,” he said softly.
I frowned, dragging myself into a sitting position. What on earth was he telling me to run from? Him? Because he didn’t need to tell me that, I already got there all on my own.
Right as I opened my mouth to tell him as much, the raccoon shifters stopped. One by one their eyes began to bulge. Their teeth grew larger. Their bodies cracked, breaking in places bodies never should.
The child’s jaw unhinged, gaping like that of a snake. He let out a feral hiss then climbed down the man’s shoulders in a scurry that more closely resembled a spider than a raccoon. The others dropped to all fours, wrists and ankles snapping, making room for larger, more monstrous claws to distend. Fur rippled along their bodies. Back and forth. Back and forth.
They stalked closer, letting out the shrillest of screeches.
It was a call.
I really didn’t want to find out what answered.
“Well, shit,” I muttered right as they sprang.
Pan met the first two head-on in a clash of talons and fangs, his own body rapidly shifting. I scrambled out from behind him, and army crawled toward where I’d heard the knife drop.
Two of the monster raccoon shifters broke off and started for me. Pan managed to grab the one that had previously been a woman. The child outmaneuvered him with three at his throat.
I tried to haul myself to my feet, thinking I may be better off ditching the blade at this rate.
The thought only lasted a second before something slammed into me from behind and sent me sprawling.
Blackness returned to greet me.
Fucking concussion.
I was starting to think stabbing Pan might have been a poor idea, and what was more, that he may have been right for encouraging me to try to run.
Teeth latched on to my shoulder. Ripping. Tearing.
Pain sharpened my senses and sent a surge of urgency to my brain, clearing the fog long enough to reach back and grab the raccoon–creature–shifter child by the hair. I pulled her off of me, gritting my teeth against the pain as the child ripped out a chunk of me with it.
I flung it forward, trying to get it as far away from me as possible.
The effort sent me back to my knees. One hand hit the ground to steady myself. The other came up to my neck to feel the damage.
Crimson ran like paint, causing another episode of déjà vu to hit.
Gods. I wasn’t scared of a little blood, but I wasn’t made to sustain heavy bleeding, in a land without healers or hospitals, no less.
A ragged growl drew my attention. The kid was back. Blood dripped from its mouth like a monster out of theGremlinsmovie from the 80s.
“Don’t do this kid,” I coughed. “I really don’t want to hurt you.”
If it could understand me, it gave no indication.
“Pan,” I called, taking a step back. My foot hit something hard. My eyes flicked down. Steel glinted in the luminescent hours before dawn. I snatched my blade up without taking my eyes off the kid.
“Little busy here,” he said, sounding pissed off to the nth degree.
I bit back the smartass reply ready on my tongue. This was kind of my fault.
“What’s wrong with them? Why are they attacking us?”
The raccoon monster took another step toward me, its unhinged jaw opening wide to show a row of very pointy teeth.
