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Cassius’s gray eyes find me as I roll to my stomach and shift the dagger to my left hand as I rise into a low crouch.
I will only get one chance.
He nods. Taking hold of the beast’s ear, he yanks hard and offers up his injured arm. It roars in his face, then clamps down. Blood soaks its muzzle and drips all over Cassius.
I leap for the creature’s horn and hold tight as I crash into its muscle and rancid smelling fur. The swamp fox lifts its head, jerking Cassius with it as it tries to dislodge me. I hook my legs around its neck for leverage and press against the side of its face.
When I see my reflection in the red orb, I aim and plunge the dagger into the massive eye, down to the hilt.
The swamp fox shrieks. The sound is earsplitting and so much worse than any noise I’ve ever heard from a demon. It bucks, and I loosen my legs, managing to dangle from the horn. I twist the blade then rip it out.
Cassius kicks the swamp fox off as I let go, landing hard on the ground. The beast stumbles to the side, then collapses. No one moves or utters a word for a long moment as we wait to see if it’s truly dead. The belly rises and falls unevenly a few times, then doesn’t move again.
Panting, I kneel before Cassius, my hands hovering over his damaged arm. The muscle is shredded and he’s losing a lot of blood. My gaze flicks to his pale face and he offers me a weak smile.
With my dagger, I cut away his sleeve then slice a strip of fabric from the edge of my blouse to bind his arm. His eyes are unfocused as I wrap the wounds. It isn’t until I finish that he snaps out of his daze.
Shifting to sit, he winces when he jostles his arm. “It’s been longer than I can remember since I’ve needed help for an injury.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not too much,” he says. Cassius tries to push to his feet, stumbling slightly. I place his uninjured arm over my shoulder and help hoist him up. “Thank you, little bird. You really are turning out to be a remarkable slayer.” He eyes the swamp fox. “Of both vampires and beasts.”
“You are mistaken. I am no slayer. I am only a human,” I say with a laugh. “With the strangest of allies.”
He holds his arm, bearing the brunt of his injuries to his chest as we make our way to the slain creature, slowly converging on it.
Lawrence and Della join us wordlessly. The fur is matted in several areas and the muzzle is curled in a permanent snarl. And the ears are twice as big as they should be for a creature its size.
The ground trembles and cracks. Everyone jumps back as the animal sinks, the ground pulling it under like quicksand. The forest appears to be reclaiming… or consuming it. It’s hard to say.
“Now why in the Otherworld is a human escorting and protecting three vampires in my forest?” a dry, frail voice asks from behind.
I spin and gape. Standing in the middle of the path is an old woman. She looks as though a strong wind would knock her over and break several bones. Her back is hunched, more so on one side than the other, and the skin of her face is lined with deep wrinkles. Covering most of her body is a heavy brown cloak, buttoned from hem to neck. The hood pulled over her head shades her eyes but not her sharp nose or thin lips, parted to reveal an amused smile.
Cassius steps forward.
The woman waves a hand and turns her back, dismissing him. “You may speak with me inside.”
“There’s no shelter anywhere near here,” Della protests. “We scouted the area earlier.”
The woman chuckles. “Isn’t there?”
The four of us exchange glances, dumbstruck. Each step the woman takes looks almost painful. She couldn’t possibly travel far in her condition, yet she wasn’t in the area minutes ago.
My vampire companions don’t seem to have any inclination to indulge her. I find it too coincidental that a frail woman appeared out of nowhere and is under the impression that there’s shelter nearby.
Sprinting, I scoop up my bag and hurry to follow a few steps behind her. Then after a moment, three sets of boots treading over the loam, trail at my back.
We travel down the singular path I was about to take before the demonic swamp fox attacked. Passing two large trees, I stop in mid-step, nearly stumbling.
What in the Otherworld?
A clearing opens up before us that should have been visible from where we fought. The area is encircled by trees growing so close together it would be impossible to enter from anywhere else. A cozy cabin with lazy smoke curling from the chimney and candlelight flickering through the windows sits in the center. It smells like spring, with fresh grass and the warm perfume of flowers. This should be impossible.
The woman doesn’t stop until she reaches the door. With a wave of her hand, it swings open. Climbing the two steps onto her rickety porch, I stop and face her.
She pushes her hood back, revealing grayish blue eyes so pale they almost look white. A long, black braid with silver strands woven through, spills over her shoulder and hangs down nearly to the ground.
