Page 59 of Insidious Monsters
The eldritch locked its gaze on me and let out a silent scream that hit me with a fresh wave of misery.
Telarion jumped onto its back and began tearing at its shell-like hide with his talons. I pressed my hands down over my ears and increased the volume of my singing.
Quentin and Victor rushed onto the floor and skidded a halt. Victor doubled over in pain, but Quentin let out a bellow and ran toward me.
The creature screamed again, and another silent wave of awfulness hit me in the chest. My song faltered and my hands slipped from my ears.
What was the point of resisting the inevitable?
“August, don’t!” Telarion growled from his position atop the monster.
“August? What’s happening?” Quentin asked.
Of course, he couldn’t see the creature, but Victor could. He could see it and feel it and he was walking toward the balcony.
Shit! “Stop him!” I pointed a finger toward Victor.
I didn’t trust myself to go after him, not if it meant getting close to the tempting ledge. I’d probably end up taking us both over it.
Quentin tackled Victor’s knees, bringing him down. He held him there while he thrashed and sobbed to be set free from the scourge of the earth.
“What is it?” Quentin asked. “What the hell is happening?”
I shook my head to try and clear it of the negative, destructive impulses filtering through it. “Can’t you feel it? The pain. The horror. Telarion’s fighting the eldritch who’s creating it.”
The eldritch and Telarion were engaged in a full-on one-on-one, grappling and rolling on the ground. I needed to help. The sorrow had ebbed. I guess fighting for your life took up too much energy. The creature couldn’t maintain a periphery of sorrow vibes.
I crawled over to my bag and yanked it open, rooting inside for my saber. The net was out of the question, not with Telarion so close to the creature.
Bingo.
Telarion let out a bellow of frustration and my head whipped up to find him pinned beneath the creature. The creature had its huge paw on Telarion’s chest, holding him against the ground. It reared back, ready to snap off Telarion’s face.
“No!” I ran toward them, arm already pulled back in a swing, when the creature blasted another wave of negative energy my way.
My throat closed, eyes filling with tears. I wanted to drop to my knees, to curl up into a ball and sob. But Telarion needed me. He needed me, dammit. I pushed through treacle air, past thoughts and images that were desperate to grapple me to the ground.
As the eldritch lifted its chin for another scream, I swiped my saber across its throat, cutting off its voice.
* * *
“I killed it…”I looked down at the dead body of the mournful-looking eldritch. It seemed smaller now, sad and lost with its many teeth hidden behind its lips. How had it found itself here? Had it intended to hurt us, or had it simply been trying to exist. To survive.
My chest ached. “I’m not sure it deserved to die.”
“It caused the death of three humans, and it almost killed you,” Quentin reminded me.
Victor crouched by the creature, sketching its likeness into a small notebook. “Never seen one like this before. I swear it made me feel like life was pointless.”
“I felt it too,” Telarion said softly. “It made me weak.”
Yes, we’d all felt it. All except Quentin. I looked up at him. “You weren’t affected though, were you?”
I caught a flash of disconcertion on his face before he masked it. “I wasn’t. It must have something to do with my bracelet.”
“The one that mutes your psi-witch abilities?”
“Yes. It must have acted as a barrier. I’ll have to speak to the Order technicians to be sure, though.”
