Page 63 of A Touch of Poison
It had me by the legs.
I was yanked from the chimney, blinded by the sudden daylight.
A hot stink filled the air.
The back wall was gone. A pile of bones lay on its other side. In the space where the crack had stood, crouched a Horror.
Not a second’s doubt. That was a Horror. The name was perfect for the elongated head, the rows of pointed teeth, the void-black eyes that saw right through me.
Dwarfed by its hulking, eight-legged form, Bastian stood before it, drawing a blade edged with shadows.
“No,” I cried, reaching for him. That thing was going to kill him.
But I was already being carried into the next room. Carried by—it took me far too long to realise—Bastian. I hung over his shoulder, the box in my soot-covered hand.
His second self stayed behind. A decoy.
Past the windows and over the shattered mirror without so much as a crunch of broken glass, Bastian ran. Faster than I’d expected considering he carried me.
I lost sight of his other self. “What happens if he dies?”
“It’s… unpleasant for me,” Bastian huffed. “I feel everything he does. But I’ll be fine.”
Above the crumbled walls, the Horror rose onto its back legs—and rose and rose. Ten feet became fifteen became twenty as it reared onto its four back legs.
With the front section of its torso upright, what had seemed a hulking, squat body, was actually as sleek as its gleaming carapace. The whole thing was like a giant insect, save for its elongated head. That was like nothing else I’d ever seen.
And I couldn’t stop staring at it.
Its front legs unfolded, curved and sharp like scythes, while barbs tipped the next pair. Beneath those—that was what Bastian meant by its armpits. A tiny area of weakness that would be near impossible to hit.
More clicking, questing sounds rose from the ruins. More Horrors, the alert spreading.
Bastian leapt over rubble, zigzagged through narrow streets—too narrow for the Horrors to fit down, I realised as I jostled uselessly over his shoulder.
Useless. You are not a useless woman. Get hold of yourself, Katherine.
Box secure in one hand, I drew my boot pistol with the other.
The first Horror slashed with those curved front legs and hissed as it fought Bastian’s double, who was hidden by the ruins.
Closer—much closer, a wall crumbled to my right, ripped down by a Horror’s claws. “Behind us,” I called. “Your left.”
Bastian’s arm squeezed around my thighs and he turned right, away from the pursuing monster. Below, shadows wisped off his heels.
Twice more, I called out warnings as Horrors came after us, and twice more Bastian took us down side streets.
But as we rounded a corner, one locked eyes with me and shrieked its pleasure. Its strangely bent legs scuttled across the debris-filled street.
“Behind us,” I gasped.
“Yep,” Bastian huffed. “I noticed that.”
It gained, coming closer with each step. My heart beat so hard, my body became one massive throbbing pulse.
As good as my aim was, I couldn’t fire with so much movement beneath me, and I didn’t dare tell Bastian to stop.
Still, I levelled my pistol. Maybe it would understand the threat.Maybe.
