Page 17 of Rebel Fae
Chapter Seven
Vaughn had heard something.I had no idea what, but I panicked nonetheless. We’d arrived too late, and whatever monster was loose on the island was coming our way.
“Everyone, inside the hut!” Vaughn ordered in an urgent tone.
“Let’s go. Let’s go,” I urged, following Vaughn’s lead and running toward the closest hut.
My eyes rove around, to make sure everyone had gotten the message.
To my left, Ronnie stood frozen, his face slack with fear. Pivoting, I veered toward him, arms out as if I expected him to flock in the wrong direction and I meant to herd him like a sheep.
“Run!” I yelled.
A wild roar echoed through the clearing and sent a thrill of fear into my very soul. With a shiver, Ronnie came out of his fear-induced stupor. His eyes met mine for an instant, then he turned and ran.
Next, I scanned the clearing for Becca, my panic surging like a tide when I didn’t see her. Where was she?! I spotted Baeleath instead. He wasn’t running for shelter, either. He was facing the source of the awful screeches, his stance menacing, his healthy wing twitching behind him as he scanned the trees.
“Baeleath, where are Becca and Regina?” I called out.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he crouched, horns angled forward, eyes fixed on the approaching threat.
My head snapped from side to side, searching for Becca and Regina. The fire gave me enough light to see in the clearing, but darkness shrouded the surrounding trees. If they were out there, I needed to find them. Baeleath knew how to take care of himself. He had single-handedly subdued a vampire. I had to trust he would be all right.
Another awful shriek reached us. This time it sounded closer. I turned to glance in that direction. The nearby bushes rustled and something lashed out from the thick leaves, headed straight in my direction. Before I could register what it was, I ducked to avoid it. It whipped with a sharp crack right where my head had been just a second ago.
“You two, what are you doing? Run! Get in the hut,” Vaughn’s voice called.
I rolled toward the sound of his voice and jumped to my feet, running away from whatever had attacked me. “What the devils was that? Did you see it?”
Vaughn, who was standing on one of the raised hut’s steps, leaped off and rushed in my direction.
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“They’re already inside.”
Gòrak!I’d been picturing Becca beheaded and was risking myself for no reason. Though there was still Baeleath to worry about. My mind quickly assessed whether the wooden hut would really save us, but we didn’t have other options. Vaughn seemed to think so, and I had no time for another plan.
I started running toward the hut, swerving slightly toward the Khurynian.
“Baeleath, we’ll have a better defensive position from the hut!”
I figured if I told him to run he wouldn’t. He was a warrior, after all. Luckily, I was right. Nodding his horned head, he began taking slow backward steps, his eyes trained on the foliage.
Heart hammering in my chest, I sprinted toward Vaughn. When I reached him, he turned back the way he’d come, urging me to run faster. We bolted toward the hut, side by side. We were almost to the steps that led to the door when he fell hard to the ground.
I wheeled back. “Vaughn!”
He let out a raw cry and reached for his foot. Something clung tightly to his ankle. He pulled on his leg, panic getting the best of him. Wasting no time, I dropped to my knees, unsheathed the knife at his belt, and slashed at the thick tendril that had gotten a hold of him. It held tightly to his ankle, squeezing as if to snap Vaughn’s foot off. I slashed at the rope-like tendril once, cutting through half of its strands. I slashed again. It finally broke. The tendril surged back, disappearing behind a tangle of bushes.
I pulled on Vaughn’s arm. “Get up!”
He sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing green, his muscles writhing. Claws sprang from his fingertips. He was on the verge of shifting.
A few yards behind us, Baeleath let out a pained growl. My head spun in his direction. He was on the ground, the strange tendrils wrapped around one of his legs and his thick torso. He struggled against them, trying to tear them off.
Terror surging, I ran to him, Vaughn’s knife in hand.
My eyes followed the strange appendages away from Baeleath, they snaked into the same tangle of bushes where the other one had retreated. The tendrils that restrained Baeleath were taut as they pulled on him, trying to drag him away, but I wouldn’t allow it.
