Page 166 of The Spider Queen
I gulped.
Before I could call my spiders, Thane burst through the tall brush, diverting the beast’s attention. The side of Thane’s face dripped blood, and one hand clutched his side. In the other, he held an ebony blade.
The sky was now shades of crimson and gold. Thane looked like an ancient warrior as he faced the monster.
A growl escaped the beast’s throat. The sound was deafening, and I felt the land beneath me shudder. I slowly made my way to my feet as I watched Thane issue a cry like a warrior in battle.
The creature lunged at Thane and a scream lodged in my throat. I waited for the beast to make a meal of Thane, but at the last moment, Thane squatted. And when the monster was airborne, with its jaws hanging open, Thane shoved his blade into the roof of the animal’s mouth.
Sharp teeth clenched down on Thane’s arm, purely out of reflex, but it was too late. The beast went down, its glowing tawny eyes dimming with death.
“Fuck,” Thane growled, trying to disengage his arm from the powerful jaws. “That hurt like a motherfucker.”
The curses on Thane’s lips had hysterical laughter welling up inside me. I mashed it down and scrambled toward him, wanting to give the dead animal a wide berth, but my concern for Thane overrode my fear. “What just—what—I can’t—are you—” I grabbed the creature’s muzzle and pried open it’s jaws.
Thane extracted his arm. Flesh and fabric were torn.
“Oh God,” I whispered, reaching for him.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’ll heal.” He swayed on his feet, and though the light in the sky was nearly gone, I could see that he was pale.
“You look like you’re about to fall over. And you’re clutching your side.”
“It gutted me. But it’s healing already.” He took his hand away and opened his shirt to show me. There was a gaping hole in his side, but it wasn’t bloody. “See?”
“See?” I squeaked, feeling nausea rise in my belly. “I can see your insides!”
He closed his shirt. “I’m immortal, Poppy. I told you it was hard to kill me.” He smiled.
I blinked. “Do you regenerate? Like a starfish? Or a liver?”
Thane laughed and then winced, his hand moving to his side again. “Something like that. I need to sit down for a moment. I’m still…woozy.”
“Where’s your leather fanny pack?”
“Satchel,” he growled.
“Semantics.”
He gestured to the dead beast.
“I don’t think I understand.”
“It got a hold of the satchel, tore it from me, and swallowed it. If you give me a moment, I’ll slit open its belly and retrieve it.”
“Or”—I swallowed—“we could just leave it.”
He shook his head. “There are things in there that we need.”
In the distance, I heard a snarl, and then a bay. I whipped my head around to Thane who shrugged. “The beast’s mate, I imagine. We can’t stay here.”
When Thane made no move to get up, I sighed, knowing what I had to do. “Give me the knife. I’ll get the satchel.”
Chapter 14
“You smell rotten,” Thane said.
“You don’t smell any better,” I commented, trying to breathe through my mouth.
