Page 35 of Angel of Water & Shadow

“What the hell was that, Ryder?”

“A teratorn,” he said as he smoothly inspected the mirrors, then the street.

I raised an eyebrow. “Tera-whatta?” I didn’t want to come off frantic, but you know, a Pterodactyl-looking monster had just chased us off campus.

“Teratorn.” His dramatic pronunciation brought out his accent. The windshield wipers beat a frantic rhythm as we fishtailed onto the main road.

I twisted in my seat, craning my neck to see if it was still there. “Well, what’s it doing here? Doesn’t seem like it escaped from the zoo.”

“It’s not from this dimension.” His head quirked to the side as if my disbelief was wholly inappropriate for the situation. “It’s a demon.”

My whole body swiveled towards him. Somehow his words were harder to comprehend than the actual thing that was chasing us. Dimensions. Demons. And said with such indifference, like it was nothing special, like he was used to this.

Like this was real.

This was a far cry from the mischievous sprite that had crashed my birthday. This thing had actual fangs. Ones that could tear me to shreds in a matter of seconds. I slid deeper into my seat.

“It shouldn’t be here.”

That was comforting, Ryder. “Then care to explain why it is?” I snapped.

His lips slightly pursed and opened, seeming to be stuck on what to say. Clearing his throat, he offered nothing but empty words. “That…might take a while to explain.” I wasn’t sure why it was so hard to comprehend how clueless I was, when the majority of people would act the same. “The ward’s there to stop it. Unless it was summoned…”

“Sounds casual.” I narrowed my eyes, the angry creases in my forehead practically digging into my skull, feeling as out of the loop as the other drivers waiting at the traffic light beside us. Must be nice, sitting in their normal cars, thinking normal thoughts, heading to do normal things.

I tried to channel that vibe. “Hey, looks like we may have lost it.” Unsuccessfully—a reverberating thud shook the roof, catching in my chest.

Before I had a moment to panic, an explosive force crashed into the windshield, hairline cracks spreading from the center of impact, fractal and delicate like a spider’s web. My heart raced with the rhythm of the rain. A barbed tail flailed outside the window beside me, coming for its second score. One more hit and the glass would shatter completely. Ryder reached for his arrows, but it wouldn’t be quick enough—he had been as stunned as I had.

Neon reflected in the top right corner of the windshield, the only piece that had remained intact. “Green light!” I yelled.

Ryder jammed the pedal into the floor and our companion flailed off the roof, its cries as sharp as the shards that had started dropping into our laps.

I clamped my hands over my ears, but the scream blared past them, spearing my bones like the monster’s throat was a megaphone for the underworld. And maybe it was. We careened onto a road that funneled into the mountains. I crossed my fingers we’d be harbored by the trees.

“I can’t see,” Ryder barked, eyes scanning the ruined glass. His demeanor had hardened, like any slip of emotion might cost us precious seconds again.

He stuck the upper half of his body out the window to get a better view, toes pressing the gas, fingertips steering. I wanted to reach over and take the wheel and let him do his thing—but I slumped helplessly in the copilot’s seat, hands pressed against the sides of my head as if to keep it from rolling off.

The sad reality was, I couldn’t even offer to drive. I didn’t have my license or permit. I’d tried to get it—Javi had even tagged along with me to the written test. But when my finger met the touch screen, the DMV’s noises built and warped until every shoe scuff, every paper shuffle, every murmur turned my concentration to dust. I’d walked out without looking back.

A beach cruiser was all I needed. Until now.

It wouldn’t be long before the teratorn caught up to us again. I shuddered at the thought, wanting to slink so far into the cushion I’d disappear. But I couldn’t; I had to do something.

I checked the rearview and as my eyes caught on the monster’s clunky form, I scooted towards the middle. “Ryder, it’s gaining on us!”

He began to lean in for his quiver. “Take the wheel!”

“I can’t! I don’t know how to drive.” I cringed at the look on his face, which spelled our defeat.

“Do you know how to shoot an arrow?” he yelled, still halfway out the window.

“No? And this doesn’t feel like a good time for archery lessons!” I yelled back.

“They say the best way to learn is by doing, so grab them out of my bag!”

The same black leather pouch he paraded the other night leaned against his empty seat, glowing ceremonially in the dash’s backlight. Its crescent-shaped tip grazed my thigh—I hadn’t even noticed I’d scooted that close to the driver’s side. I reached for the strap.

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