The beetle was too large for me to run away from. It would’ve caught me in a moment. Instead, the best I could do was throw myself out of its path. The dirt rumbled when it crashed into the ground. I had hurled myself out of its path, but now I was on the ground, and it was already turning toward me.

  I saw it lunge toward me again, only this time I took a deep breath and flexed those time-bending muscles I had acquired. The creature’s advance slowed; not by much, but enough that I was able to pick myself up and get out of its way again. This thing was fast. Almost as fast as I was even with my new-found abilities.

  “Dammit, you’re fast,” I said, as the beetle slammed its mandibles into the patch of wet dirt I had been sitting in a moment ago.

  It pulled its huge, pincer-like appendages out of the dirt and turned to look at me, and I saw myself reflected in its huge, bulging black eyes. I almost tripped over a root that turned out to be a rock. As the beetle hissed and lunged, I grabbed the rock and hurled it into one of its eyes.

  They weren’t hard to miss.

  The rock struck the monster in the face with enough force to pierce the jelly and pop it like a zit. The beetle screeched, and I was once again sprayed with even more hot, icky liquid I didn’t want all over me. I didn’t even have time to put my hands up and shield myself from the spray; it drenched me entirely.

  “Awesome,” I said, wiping the hot goo off my face. “Why does that keep happening?”

  “Hey,” Rell called out, “Less wallowing, more rock-throwing!”

  “Right!”

  I spun around on the spot, searching the ground for another rock, but it was harder than I thought. I had stumbled onto a rock that was light enough for me to grab and throw and heavy enough that it hurt the creature. Finding another one just like it, even with my body moving faster than it should’ve been able to, took way too long.

  The Crawling Quiet shuffled around on the spot, kicking up wet leaves and dirt as the pain of having one of its eyes smashed in shot through it. By the time I had found another rock to throw, the monster was already on its way to me, and it had gotten so close I could see the inside of its mouth with perfect clarity.

  Instead of hurling the rock, I started running wildly toward the only source of light—the carriage. It hadn’t caught fire, not really, but the small flames burning along its collapsed roof were starting to merge and grow, crackle, and pop, creating more light with which to see.

  I ran, full pelt, toward the cabin, hoping to use the spreading flames would stop the massive beetle from getting too close. But the creature was so large, and so close, it caught up to me quickly. I had to duck and roll to avoid getting my head snapped off by its giant mandibles, but I had rolled awkwardly, and I hadn’t been able to get back up.

  I turned around on the ground so I could look up at the creature looming above me. It arched its head back, and its jaws snapped quickly, as if to taunt me before attacking. That was when the Viscount leapt onto the creature’s back. He’d come from out of nowhere, and in one bounding leap cleared the distance from the ground all the way to the beetle’s back.

  He grabbed onto the Crawling Quiet’s large antennae and used them to hold on as the creature bucked and kicked, trying to shake him off. As the monster reared and sprang, its spear-like feet would slam into the ground near me, making me roll to get away from them. When I found an opening, I scrambled back up and onto my feet, and kept running toward the carriage.

  The flames were already licking the inside of the cabin, but they hadn’t reached the seats. I grabbed my ax. I also took the Viscount’s weapon pack and dragged it out of the vehicle before the fire got too intense. Once I was safely away from the burning wreck, I grabbed hold of my ax and turned to face the giant beetle.

  The Viscount was still on its back, holding onto its head with one hand and hacking at the back of its neck with the other, plunging a knife into its weak spot. Rell was nearby, floating around, trying to get a clear shot of the creature’s face. I wasn’t sure what to do, where to go, what to hit, and then I heard it.

  “Hello, Avery,” said the voice. It was soft, and feminine, but there was a second tone to it that made it sound distorted, and menacing.

  “Who said that?” I asked, scanning the darkness. The world was still moving slowly around me. Nothing else was moving except for Rell, the Viscount, and the creature.

  “You know who we are. You know what we want.” Strangely, I felt like the voice was coming from the Crawling Quiet; like it was broadcasting directly into my mind the way Rell did.

  “Get out of my head!”

  “Ah, but it is such a wonderful place, so full of delicious thoughts and dreams. Did you think we would forget about you?”

  “You aren’t real. I’m not talking to you.”

  The beetle was looking right at me. The Viscount was still trying to break through its neck with his knife, and Rell seemed to be trying to get a good shot at its other, good eye, but the creature was looking at me. In that strange world where the seconds stretched like they were made of mozzarella cheese, I could almost feel the connection between myself and whatever was talking to me through the eye of that monster.

  And I didn’t like it.

  “You are in denial, little human,” said the creature. “But you are in our domain, now. We are coming for you, and he cannot protect you from us anymore.”

  “I won’t let you take my soul.”

  “There is nothing you can do, Avery Rose. We have tasted the sweet nectar of your essence, we desire more, and we will have it. Do not resist—it is better that way.”

  The beetle started charging toward me, but I couldn’t move. I had the rock in one hand, and an ax in the other, but I couldn’t defend myself. The creature hurtling toward me was hunger and desire incarnate, I was the snack it wanted, I felt like there was nothing I could do to stop it from swallowing me whole, except scream on the inside.

  With the creature only a few feet away, Rell swooped into view ahead of me, spread his wings wide to stop himself in mid-air, and turned to face the Crawling Quiet.

  “Eat fire, asshole!” he yelled, and this time, a jet of flame spurted out of his mouth, spraying the beetle’s mouth and eyes. It shrieked and stomped, and it stopped in its tracks as the fire began to spread. It was as if the monster was made of paper. I had never seen something go up in flames so quickly.

  I turned my eyes up at the Viscount, and I felt a surge of adrenaline move through me. “Viscount!” I called out. “Catch!”

  The Viscount looked up just as I tossed the ax toward him. I watched it sail through the air in slow motion, but the Viscount moved normally, giving him ample time to get into the ax’s path and prepare to catch it. He plucked it out of the air, grabbed hold of it tightly, and swung it hard into the creature’s back, this time finding the soft membrane between the plates that made up its hard shell.

  The Crawling Quiet cried out in pain, the first hit bringing it to its knees, the second causing it to fall on its belly entirely. There wasn’t a third hit. Once the fire reached the creature’s eyes, the Viscount leapt off its back, rolling on his shoulder on the dirt. Together we watched as Rell’s flames consumed the beetle, the light from the fire illuminating the trees around us.

  Panting, I dropped the rock and pulled more slime off my face. I was covered in it. “Could somebody please tell me what the hell that was about?” I asked.

  “That was our welcome to Darkwood,” said the Viscount. “Now, we enter the forest.”

  CHAPTER 19

  I wasn’t going to get far so long as I was covered in slime and blood. Not only did it stink like hell, but it was starting to dry up and crack all over my skin and clothes. It was the Viscount who happened to catch the sound of a trickling brook, so we headed toward it and put down there to clean up.

  It was dark out, but it wasn’t the all-consuming darkness from before. It was as if my eyes had somehow adjusted to the pitch black enough that I could not only discern shapes, but also a smattering of color. Despite what it was called, the Darkwood Forest was… kind of beautiful.

  I had been expecting withered trees, dead grass, and animal carcasses rotting all over the place. But instead of corpses, there were flowers—pretty, bright flowers in weird shapes you wouldn’t find on Earth. Maybe under the sea, but not on land. Not that I knew of, anyway.

  Some of the flowers were little more than long stems with many, curved limbs and little glowing bulbs hanging from them. Others looked like tulips that seemed to breathe in and exhale; swaying as they breathed in and sighing as they breathed out.

  Trippy was the word that came to mind.

  We had found a big tree to settle next to, the kind with massive roots that would stick out of the ground and knot around each other. A small nook inside them made for a perfect space to sit in, one where we couldn’t get ambushed easily from.

  Rell and I sat inside the little alcove while the Viscount worked a few feet ahead from us. I watched him unfurl the furs he had been able to save from the carriage before it eventually burnt down to cinders. Once he laid them out in front of him, he stood up, extended his hands, and made them glow light green again; the same as before.

  Like a conductor, he waved gently with his hands, and the furs on the ground lifted, floated toward each other, and sealed together, creating a long, furry canopy. It came slowly toward the alcove we had found, and draped itself over me, sealing the little nook from the outside.

  I couldn’t see what he did next, but I could see the canopy starting to shake and rustle. I heard what I thought were leaves, and branches falling against the fur, and then I realized what he was doing. He was trying to camouflage our hiding spot. I wasn’t sure what good that would do in a place like this, but it wasn’t going to hurt our chances.

  “You smell…” Rell trailed off.

  I looked over at him, eyebrow arched, and waited. “Yes?” I asked, eventually.

  “No, that’s it. You smell.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And I don’t think we’re going to be nearly as safe in here tonight as he thinks.”

  “You’re welcome to sleep outside.”

  “No, no. I’m fine in here.”

  “So, quit complaining, because I’m not in the mood.”

  “Grumpy.”

  The Viscount had created a small flap at the front of our makeshift tent. He pulled it aside and offered me another set. “You can clean up at the stream,” he said. “It’s safe now.”

  “It’s freezing out, though.”

  “Then, do it quickly.”

  I crawled toward the exit, took the fur from out of his hand, and stepped outside. There were a lot of those glowing plants around, enough that I could easily see my way to the bank of the nearby stream. It couldn’t have been more than twenty feet from the tent, but having seen how fast some of the creatures out here could hustle, twenty feet was nothing.

  Light from the glowing bulbs caught the water as it chuckled past. It looked clean, and clear. There were no dead fish, no trails of blood, and no giant water bugs waiting to chew my face off. I knelt by it, carefully dipped my hands into it, and washed my face.

  The water was cool, but not freezing cold. It felt good on my skin as I cleaned myself up, like a shower after a long night of rocking out in a stinky, gross old dive bar. I realized once I’d cleaned my arms and face, that I had to do something about the dress I was wearing. I didn’t have a replacement, though, and neither did the Viscount.

  I turned my head to call out to him, but he wasn’t by the tent; he was a little up-stream from me, and he was already soaking his shirt in the water. I watched him, saw the way the soft, ambient light bounced off the taught muscles of his back, his arms, his shoulders—off the tips of his pointed ears. I thought I saw him glance at me, but he quickly turned his attention back to the shirt he was washing in the water and pretended like he hadn’t looked.

  “How are you going to dry that?” I called out.

  “Magic,” he said. “Do the same to yours.”

  I looked around, stupidly searching for a natural screen I could hide behind. After a quick scan, though, it was clear I wasn’t going to find one. I decided suddenly that I didn’t care whether he saw me, or what he saw of me. I stood upright, pulled the dress entirely over my head, and bunched it up in my hands.

  I was wearing underwear, but nothing else under the dress. Instantly I felt the chill of the air touch my sensitive flesh, and it made my skin prickle all over. I quickly knelt by the edge of the stream and dunked the dress in the water, turning it over and over in my hands. It felt like a shame, like I was ruining it. I didn’t think it would dry, not with heat and not with magic. And even if it did, it would never look the same again after the treatment I was giving it.

  Glancing at the Viscount again while I worked the dress between my hands, I noticed he was using his shirt to clean his face, his neck, his shoulders. He would dip the shirt in the water, soak it up, and then wring it out over his head, letting the water cascade around him.

  My heart started to race at the sight of it. I could feel the heat, the want, pulse through me like adrenaline, and I kind of hated it. Not because I hated him. We were past that, now. But because I hated what he did to me, what he could do to me. It was obvious to everyone who knew me that I liked being in control.

  I was not in control of the way my body reacted to his, and I didn’t like that one bit.

  When he caught me staring, I turned my attention to my own dress again. I decided to follow his lead, using it to wash my hair, my face, my neck. The water was starting to feel a little colder, now, as if my tolerance for the chill was wearing thin.

  When I was done, I stood upright and wrung as much of the water out of the dress as I could, letting it fall back into the dirt and the stream. I shuddered as the cold splash of water touched my feet and ankles. I was about to turn around and head back for the tent when I felt a pair of hands around my shoulders.

  I could’ve screamed.

  I could’ve turned around and punched the thing behind me.

  I didn’t. Instead, I allowed it to touch me, and drape me with a thick, warm fur cloak. Turning my head slightly to the side, I saw the Viscount’s hands on my arms, and my entire body locked up. “I could’ve killed you,” I said.

  “That’s a strange way of showing thanks,” he said. “And I doubt it.”

  “I’ve been training, or hadn’t you noticed?”

  “Speed will only get you so far. You don’t have the killer’s instinct, and as such, you will pull your punches, opting never to go for the killing blow.”

  “Why kill when you can disable?”

  “Disable me, then.”

  I turned around, grabbed the fur cloak with one hand, and pulled it closed around my neck. He still hadn’t let go of my shoulders. “I’m cold and soaking wet, otherwise I would.”

  “I only hear an excuse.”

  I swallowed hard. Was it my imagination, or were we drawing a little closer to each other? “You can hear whatever you want, just don’t sneak up on me again, or we’re going to have a problem.”

  “That sounds like a threat. You should know better than to threaten me.”

  “It was a promise. Don’t test me on it, Viscount.”

  Somewhere on the other side of the water, I heard a noise like a twig snap. It was so loud, it echoed across the way like a gunshot. My ears pricked up, and I quickly scanned the trees across the way. They were dark, and quiet—nothing like the entrance to the forest at all. This entire area was almost entirely quiet, save for a few night birds and some crickets.

  “Did you—” I was about to ask, but the Viscount put one of his fingers up, and I stayed quiet.

  There, somewhere between a bush and a fallen log on the other side of the water, a pair of eyes was looking back at us. They shone like cat’s eyes—a dead giveaway—and they weren’t alone. Now that I was aware of them, I saw more of them. More eyes, watching us from the dark at a distance.

  “Back in the tent,” said the Viscount.

  I didn’t question his order. With my wet dress in my hands, I hurried over to the tent and drew the flaps closed. Rell was sitting on another set of furs that had been laid down on the floor. I had to admit, it was kind of cozy in here. I would’ve enjoyed it, if not for the fact that we were in a dangerous forest with things watching us.

  “You’re dripping all over the fur,” Rell said.

  “Yeah, well, there was something out there,” I said, “I had to rush inside.”

  “Something?”

  “Yeah, something watching us.”

  “Ew, watching you bathe? That’s pretty creepy.”

  My cheeks flushed. I had been watching the Viscount. Was I creepy? I guessed, in the wrong context… I shook my head. “I can only hope it’s not another huge monster hungry for human souls. I’ve had enough of those, thanks.”

  “You should probably stop saying the word human out here. You never know what’s listening.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Like it’s going to make things any worse.”

  The flap moved, and I almost shot out of my skin, but it was only the Viscount. He reached inside, grabbed his pack of weird, corn-husk dolls, and set them by the entrance to our tent. As long as they were out there, they didn’t seem to bother Rell at all, so I didn’t call him out on it when he came back in.

  “What was that out there?” I asked.

  “I do not know,” he said, “But it was probably a sprite.”

  “Sprite?”

  “The forest is full of them.”

  “Sprites and more,” Rell put in. “I’m talking monsters, floating clouds of rage, probably the souls of your dead Fae criminals, too.”

  “You know, I don’t think this place is going to get a lot of tourists if that’s the kind of rap it has,” I said. “That’s just bad publicity.”

  “Your dress,” said the Viscount, his hand extended.

  I didn’t think about it. I handed the dress over to him and watched him carefully caress it with his hands, which were already glowing soft and green. In all the time I’d known him, I had barely seen him use magic once or twice. He’d used more of it tonight than he had since I’d gotten here, reminding me again that he wasn’t human, not by a long shot. He was something else, something alien, something… kind of wonderful.