Page 89 of Heart of Dawn
Dawn-as-Lance fired the gun. The bullet bounced off the ring of water, shattering glass somewhere behind us.
Tilda checked her watch. “Not sure how much longer this will hold. The little hand is wobbly.”
Curse Lance.
Curse Dawn.
Curse every stupid twist blocking my reunion with Miko.
“Cherry fae must die! Devour him!” Dawn screamed, reloading the rifle.
The pink smoke of Dawn burst to life around every corpse, every skeleton. One by one, they began to move. Some crawling, some on their feet. But the vibrancy seemed dull, not as strong.
The gun fired again, but Tilda’s reflexes were on point. The bullet missed again, hitting a zombie in the head. I heard the impact rather than saw it, ninety percent sure it was the sound of a head popping.
“There will be no escape!” Dawn shrieked, taking Lance’s voice to squeakier heights. “There is no hope! There is no hope! There is no?—”
Lance’s body exploded, making me yelp.
What in the name of the stars…
“Grim,” Tilda mumbled.
The zombies collapsed, the skeletons crumbling. Every set of pink eyes diminished, the smoke dissipating. Everything fell into a silence only tempered by the rain and the rumble of distant thunder.
Tilda slowed to a stop. “I wonder what happened.”
“Consuming too much fae blood back in Faery,” I answered, gagging on my suggestion.
It was a real possibility, though. A case of Dawn spreading itself too thin, of being too arrogant along with the sting of our blood.
I pray to the stars for the safety of my parents, for the destruction to?—
I stopped. I’d begged for miracles too many times.
Shaking rainwater from my hair, which was a useless exercise, I reached out for Miko again.
“Are you there?”I asked, trembling in the cold wind.
“We shouldn’t stay out in the open too long,” Tilda warned.
“I’m trying to connect to him…”
She tapped the left handlebar, leaning forward. “Wish I could be in my ex’s head. Might have solved a lot of problems.”
Hmmm. This wasn’t a spying ability, but never mind.
“Miko?”
Rustling to my left, the sound of running. An animal? A speedie?
“Miko?”
“There’s something in the field,” Tilda seethed, sitting up.
The black wolf leaped from the overgrown greenery, landing by the side of a small car. Miko shifted into his naked human form, straightening to his full height.
I stared as rainwater cascaded down his perfectly sculpted muscles, the wonder of him snaring my senses in rapture.
