Page 129 of A Touch of Poison
I kept tripping over the question, but that wasn’t going to help me—not right now. It was for after—forifI survived.
Yet once I quashed it down, a dozen more gushed into its place. Were Ella, Rose, and the others all right? Did Bastian know about this? Could the fae fight the creatures? During our trip, he’d suggested powerfully enchanted weapons could kill them, but how many such weapons were there in the city?
And how many Horrors had found their way inside the walls?
I shivered even though fear and exertion had me bathed in sweat.
A fresh clutch of screams split the air, and ahead, people sprinted across the road, followed by a Horror. I hid in a doorway, heart hammering so loud I was afraid the monster would hear.
But it disappeared after the group, spit sizzling on the paving stones.
I had my bow and my boot pistol. I’d seen how little the pistol did and I didn’t dare hope the bow would do much more. If I could get a clean shot, I’d slow it for a little while but that was all. I couldn’t save those people.
As I worked my way towards the palace, zig-zagging to avoid Horrors and crowds, the questions fell away.
Fear pared back everything.
There was only sight and sound and the terrible tension of my muscles.
I kept to alleys and small side streets, banking on the size of the Horrors keeping them to larger roads.
Frightened faces peered out of windows, but no one opened their door when I knocked.
I couldn’t blame them.
Couples and small groups sometimes slipped past me, coming the other way or crossing my path. Eye contact, a nod, then they were gone. No offers of help.
Survival was a solitary pursuit.
As I rounded the corner into a small square around the back of some elegant townhouses, I stopped short.
Back to me, a Horror hunched over an upturned cart, clawing at its sides as if hungry to get in.
Keeping my panting breaths as quiet as possible, I ducked into a doorway and peered out.
Magic hummed on my skin.
A glimmer of light seeped from a crack in the cart’s side, pooling and gathering until it formed the shape of a woman and two children.
They ran from the cart and the Horror lifted its head, sniffing the air. But as the light-people disappeared down an alley, it clicked and resumed its assault.
“Bastard!” A woman’s voice came from under the upturned cart and I understood. That light had been her magic.
Shit.
I gripped the edge of the doorway, throat clenched. She was trapped. And that Horror wasn’t going to give up. But I couldn’t help her. Still, my fingers closed around my boot pistol. It wasn’t enough. Too small, not enchanted. It would be no more use than her gift.
Fae carriages were sturdy—the monster hadn’t yet broken through. Thank fuck. Still, it was only a matter of time.
Then came the wailing sobs of children.
Shit.
Of course. The shapes she’d conjured matched the figures the Horror had chased here—her and her children. But her gift hadn’t fooled it.
I tried to turn around. I wanted to turn. Ishould.
Somehow my pistol was in my hand.
