Page 15 of Fires of the Forsaken
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice flat. “The world you left behind was surely better than what you’ll find here.”
“What—”
“We need to keep moving.” He tugged his arm out of my grasp. “There are too many Wraiths—”
“W-wraiths?”
“—and I need to get my soldiers to safety. If I can.” He raised his gaze, staring at the snatches of azure blue sky poking out from between the trees. “If you want to come with me, you’ll have to keep up.”
He walked away again.
Chasing after him was stupid. This guy was, at the very least, a whack-a-doodle. At worst, he was a perverted serial killer. But…
The memory of the skeletal creature—on itsfucking poisonous horse—sent a violent shudder up my spine, propelling me to stumble through the undergrowth after Viking Viktor.
He moved deftly through the woods, avoiding the vines, thorns, plants, bushes, and upturned roots. Meanwhile, I stepped over a teensy root andthoughtI cleared it with plenty of room. But nope. My toe rammed into the top and I stumbled forward with a strangledoomph, crumbling to my knees. Right in the mud, of course. Because finding a dry spot to fall was overrated.
Tears burned my eyes as I scraped the gunk off my dress. “So, Sakar’s not in North America, right?” I asked Viking Viktor. “C-could it be in Europe? South America? Or…are there six or seven continents? I can never remember.” My fingers itched for my phone. Lord Google would know the number of continents. Maybe it could even drop a pin on my current location…
My stomach made a flutterysquitch-squatch.
I couldn’t remember where I’d left my phone.
Had I brought it intoDoughy Delights?Probably not. I usually left it in the car’s cupholder when I did quick food pickups. “Heh, that’ll teach me, huh?” I swallowed. “I’ll never leave my phone in the car again.”
Viking Viktor said nothing.
“Is there an airport nearby?” I pressed. “Or, like, a boat dock—is that even what they’re called? Boat docks? Boat ports?”
Silence.
My chest ached. “Seriously, if you’d let me borrow your phone—ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking—I’ll be outta your hair…”
Viking Viktor huffed. The end of his frizzy ponytail bounced as he ducked under a tree limb.
Rage bubbled inside my gut. “Oh, I’m sorry, am Iannoyingyou?” I hissed a curse when that same tree branch whacked me across my temple. Apparently I didn’t duck low enough. “Good,” I rubbed at my stinging forehead, “youdeserveto be annoyed, you stupid, fugly—what kinda game is this anyway, huh? Do you and your geek friends get your rocks off by dressing like warrior Vikings and medieval monsters andkidnappingpeople? Probably takes the sting out of the boring lives you guys run outta your moms’ basements, right? I bet ya do the whole‘Man strong. Man rape woman’thing too, huh? You get a power kick when you go full barbarian? You stupid sack of—”
Aaand,my mouth was off and running.
“I’m Addie, by the way,” I hurtled at Viking Viktor’s back after five (or ten…or fifteen) minutes of ranting. “Figured you should at least know my name before you pulled your pants down.” I scraped sweat off the back of my neck—seriously, what happened to winter? It was like 90 degrees.Withhumidity!
Viking Viktor said nothing. He wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence. So, when I saw another human being, I nearly jumped for joy.
The boy (he couldn’t have been older than nineteen) leaned against a wide evergreen tree, one booted foot propped up against the trunk as he cleaned blood off his sword. He looked up as we approached.
The kid looked like he belonged on the cover of a YA novel. His golden-blond hair brushed against the tops of his shoulders and curled around his squared jaw. His eyes were the same vibrant shade of blue as the sky above us. He was tall and broad-shouldered. And he had dimples when he smiled.
“So thatwasa hybrid!” he exclaimed. He also wore a Viking cosplay outfit, but he didn’t throw off the same“I’m gonna pillage your town, rape your women, and eat your babies”vibe Viking Viktor did.
Viking Viktor sighed and nodded.
“I told you!” The kid’s beaming smile faded as I stumbled over a thick branch.
I’d automatically tried to return his smile, but I probably had the wild-eyed look of a slasher flick villain. Because seeing this boy—a handsome and otherwise normal-looking teenager, dressed in Viking clothes and holding a bloodstained sword…
The last tether holding my emotions at bay snapped. My vision blurred, and my lips wouldn’t stop trembling. If this was a dream, I really,reallywanted to wake up.
The kid stiffened and his gaze locked on my face. “But…she’s...her…”
