Page 69 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
She clasped the noose, jerked it wide, and slipped out, twisting free of someone’s hand, ducking under another man’s arm. She raced for the path where the two poisoned men were struggling—barreled into one of them, knocking him prostrate again. She hesitated for half a second to pick up the knife he’d dropped—her own lay somewhere behind her, with the waterskin and the tattered shreds of the satchel.
Leaping over another pod, she hurtled down the slope and into the trees.
Behind her, Feral was bellowing for his men to follow.
This was the kind of hunt she had dreaded. The kind where no cleverness or inventions could save her. The kind where the only thing keeping her out of her pursuers’ hands was her own speed and strength.
She had a head start, but they were grown men, and physically stronger. They would eat up her lead quickly.
She launched herself over a fallen tree, aiming directly for the beach. Faster she pelted, dodging branches, hopping over marshy bits.
Find the boat, find the boat…
Mai broke through the treeline, into bright air and wild wind and the glitter of the ocean’s surface. She struggled through the deeper sand, paused to kick off her boots, raced barefoot along the flat, wet, packed sand, where the tide had washed the beach smooth with gliding veils of foam.
Cries from behind her—the hunters had her in sight.
Ahead she could see their skiff, the one that had brought them from theAscendantto the shore. It was pulled up onto the sand, secured by a spike and a rope.
Mai sprinted for it with all her might, to the music of confused shouts from somewhere behind her. No doubt the hunters were wondering why she was headed to the boat if she wanted to escape.
Escape was no longer possible. But she could ensure a delay.
She could hear Feral bellowing something, but he was farther behind, and she could not make out the words, though she suspected he knew her goal.
She caught the spike anchoring the skiff and pulled it free. Flinging herself into the boat, she began stabbing at the planks with all her might, aiming for a seam between two boards. As a woman without training, her upper-body strength might be limited, but her leg muscles were strong. She jammed the knife into that seam with all her power and wedged the spike in beside it. Then she stood up, braced her body, and stomped on the top of the spike and the hilt of the knife, driving them deeper, deeper into the wood. They broke through with a crack, and she began to kick the spike and the dagger back and forth, wrenching the split wider with every blow. The cracking of the wood was the most gratifying sound she’d heard all day—until she heard Feral’s shout of enraged frustration.
His yell sent chills skittering down her spine, but she kept working until large hands gripped her shoulders and yanked her out of leaking skiff, into the shallow water.
Feral whipped her around, his eyes blazing. He was panting, sweating, having outrun her other pursuers.
“You little beast,” he spit. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“Yes.” She let the full blaze of her triumph shine through her smile.
Feral shook her a little. Hauled her closer, against his great heaving chest. His crooked lips arched in a snarl over clenched teeth. That brutal expression sent a thrill of apprehension coursing through Mai’s stomach.
“It was brilliantly done,” Feral gritted out. Then he raised his voice to his crew. “Signal theAscendantto put out another skiff, while some of you try to patch this one.”
“We’re only three able bodies, Captain,” protested one of the men. “Three are still recovering from the toxin.”
“Do you think I want your excuses?” Feral bellowed. “We have pursued far greater game than this scrap of a girl. Patch the skiff, signal for another, get us off this island and onto the blasted ship with all haste, or we lose this round, do you understand? And I do not lose!”
Mai trembled in his grip. Her heartbeat thundered in her head, blood pounding at her temples.
His eyes were locked with hers, and she forced herself to hold his gaze. No softening, no retreat—only a challenge.
A moment of tenuous fire shimmered between them. And then Feral took her mouth—a hard, ravenous kiss. He inhaled deeply, desperately, as if he wanted to suck her inside him.
Mai’s body reacted involuntarily. Her lips parted and his hot tongue forged inside. One of his big hands moved from her shoulder to her rear, squeezing possessively.
Her brain was blurring like it did with drink, turning slow and stormy and savage. This wasn’t the glorious gravity, the beautiful craving she felt with Rake—this was a coarse, sweat-soaked lust. It did not have her permission.
“Clever, clever woman,” Feral breathed against her lips. Mai shuddered, thrumming with adrenaline and panic.
“I’m not yours,” she hissed between his lips, and she jerked against his hold.
“Notyet,” he growled back. “But soon, little scientist. Sooner than you think.”
