Page 22

Chapter

Twenty-Two

Syros

F or a moment, I hardly dare to move.

Erin lowers her arms to her side and loses her grip on the item in her hands. It tumbles to the ground, and she crumbles to the forest floor right after it. This time, I’m not fast enough to catch her before she drops.

She lands hard on her rear as I scramble to get to her.

“Erin.” My throat burns, and her name comes out low and gravelly. “Are you okay?”

She came for me .

Shock tightens my chest.

She could have left me to die, but she saved me when she had the opportunity to run.

There is hardly any time to give into the temptation to draw her to my chest, to clutch her tightly and assure myself of her safety. Not when I’m losing blood and my head is spinning toward the sky.

“I couldn’t let that creature hurt you,” she says breathlessly, her eyes tracking to the unconscious creature a few feet away. A wrinkle forms in her forehead as she stares at it. “That’s one ugly fucker.”

My stomach drops when I recall her warning from earlier. She called out to tell me the creature was behind me when I lost track of it.

“Erin…” I hesitate, my gaze shifting between her and the invisible form lying on the ground. “Can you see the Ech?”

“ Ech ?” She makes a disgusted face, like the creature’s name tastes terrible when she says it. “Yeah, I can. And I take it you can’t?”

“No. No one can see them,” I assure her, still in disbelief. How is it that this little human—weak and useless when it comes to combat—is able to see the invisible beasts that have plagued our world for so long?

Maybe it was more than my selfishness that kept me from killing her.

Maybe… maybe she holds the key to defeating them once and for all.

If she can see these invisible beasts, I can’t help but wonder what other magic skills she might possess.

“What did you use to knock it out?” I ask, looking at the large box she’d held moments ago.

“This old thing?” She huffs out an incredulous laugh. “You just happened to have a portable generator. Battery operated, so I doubt the campers you stole it from would have gotten more than an hour or two of power, but it’s hefty enough to make a good weapon,” she explains. “It was a lucky find.”

Her giggling takes me by surprise. Rather, the slight hysterical tone and the way she stares at the generator as though she can’t believe her own strength.

“I don’t know if I killed it, but it’s definitely not moving anytime soon,” she says, leaning closer to the Ech to inspect the damage. “Definitely cracked its skull.”

I should yell at her for putting herself in the middle of danger, but the truth of the matter is, I needed her intervention. Otherwise, I’d be dead.

I shudder to think what might have happened if she hadn’t chosen to come to my aid when she did.

“A generator,” I repeat. I swipe a claw across one of the wounds in my chest and it comes away smeared with blood. “What does it do?”

“It gives you energy, sort of like those batteries did for the radio. Human machinery needs power to operate. Our world doesn’t have any magic in it.”

We stare at each other across a chasm of no more than a few feet.

A hum of gratitude sounds from deep in my chest. “It is also an acceptable weapon.” I fall silent. “I thought you would try to get away from me.”

I would not have blamed her for it.

Yet she came for me, and the realization sends a strange sensation washing through my chest and into the lower regions of my stomach. It is an unfamiliar emotion, one I’m unable to name.

“Can you move?” Erin crawls over and reaches for my arm, ignoring my remark about her leaving. Tentatively, she places her fingers on my forearm, waiting for me to react.

My body is slow to respond. My energies are focused on healing the wounds to my flesh but without food, it will be a very slow, grueling endeavor. They wounds are too slow to knit back together. I need supplies.

I test out my legs and find them halfway unwilling to hold my weight. “I will be able to make it into the hovel, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” I grind out.

“You really have to stop calling it a hovel. It’s decent. Why not say it’s a cabin?”

Erin, unfettered and attempting levity, maintains her hold on my arm and gingerly helps me to my feet. I’m hesitant to allow her to hold my weight. If I’m not careful, I’ll crush her, and I won’t be able to do much if she’s hurt.

Not in my current condition.

“Ca-bin,” I repeat, unsure. If Erin says I live in a cabin, a cabin it shall be.

“He really did a number on you,” she adds. “Some of these scratches are really deep.”

I glance sideways at her. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You let that awful thing get the upper hand. You’re bleeding from half a dozen wounds. The ones on your back… just terrible.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

I feel the movement of my flesh with every step.

We take it slow and, once we’re over the threshold with the curtain draped back into place, my shoulders slump forward in relief. Erin helps me over to the basin still filled with her bathwater, and I drop on the stool.

My head spins, and the rest of me needs more than just a good night of rest in order to recover.

Food will be the biggest help. I’m drained, but the thought of eating Erin is banished to the farthest corners of my mind.

She refuses to release her hold on me until I’m settled and only then to stand back and consider me from top to bottom. Her hands go to her hips, presenting a mighty image of fierceness.

The little huntress, and instead of killing the beast, she’s helping him survive.

“Tell me what I need to do for you, Syros. Do you have any bandages? How do you normally clean cuts and scrapes?”

An edge of panic seeps into her voice.

I grunt, steeling myself through a fresh swell of pain. The scent of the gollilock plant still permeates the air, and the heat from the banked fire is a comfort to my bones. “Normally, I suffer through until the skin knits itself together,” I say. “That may not be an option now.”

She turns to me and taps her foot. “If you’re joking, then it must not be serious. You don’t have any sort of bandages or gauze? No plants that work to stop the bleeding?”

“I’m not joking,” I insist. “There are precious few resources in this world. Plants like that are extremely rare, and we do not have the other things you speak of.”

“You know, the next time you go through the portal, maybe try to raid a campsite and grab a first aid kit. Or find a ranger’s station. One of them is sure to have supplies you'll need if this happens frequently.”

I shake my head, instantly regretting the motion when it impacts my dizziness. “The Ech is not frequently seen in this part of the forest. They are rare and predatory.”

“It looked like a cross between Slenderman and lizard,” she says, sounding amused. “Maybe if they had a baby with a demon.”

Clearly she’s speaking to remain calm, and I indulge her, forcing a grin. “I will have to take your word. Not only can I not see it, but I have no idea what a slenderman or a lizard are.”

Erin moves over to the fire and pours fresh water from one of the pitchers into a pot. The pot is small in my palms but in hers, it is much larger than her head and it takes both hands for her to maneuver it.

“You were doing a terrible job of surviving. The sounds gave you away,” she resorts, her back turned to me. “Not to mention if it’s so rare, then what is it doing here?” Her muscles clench, her scent filled with a combination of stress and worry. For me. “Why is it coming around all of a sudden?”

“It is not because of you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I reply with a groan. “They are constantly on the move and in search of whatever food they might find.”

“Do they eat humans too? Like your kind?” Erin presses.

“Yes, but only rarely, as the Grim are not likely to give up their prey to the Ech if at all possible.”

Erin returns from the fire with the water, warmed by the flames and steaming slightly. She sets it down on the table near me and draws a cloth from the depths.

“You’re going to sit here and let me take care of you. We need to clean this out so I can see what we’re working with. Then, I might have to take more of your cloths to bind the wounds, if the bleeding hasn’t stopped by then.”

I watch her move, the deft way she handles the cloth. The first swipe of the hot water over my back has me Grimacing, suppressing the need to yell out at the pain, but the vulnerability and determination on her face has me biting my tongue.

“Why are you fussing over me?” The need to know consumes me.

“Is that what you call this?” Erin refuses to meet my gaze. “You call it fussing?”

“Yes.”

It is simple and oddly comforting. No one has ever done such a thing for me. Although, it’s not like I’ve had another person or Grim in this hovel before.

Cabin , I mentally correct.

She drags the cloth over my shoulders before dipping it back in the hot water, crimson staining the depths.

“You’re hurt,” she bites out. “After what you’ve done for me, it’s only right for me to do the same for you. Besides, I’m the only one around to do anything.”

“You want me in peak condition to fuck you again,” I growl. “I understand. You are hungry for my cock to fill you, and I can’t pleasure you when I’m like this.”

“Wow, you’re arrogant.” But her cheeks blush a pretty pink, and I glance back to see her tuck a lock of silver hair behind her ear with her free hand.

The silence that falls between us is anything but strained. There is an ease to it, a comfort, as though we have reached an accord. Soon, the smoothing motion of her hands lulls me into a mental space where I am able to close my eyes and allow her to continue her ministrations.

This is… nice. Strange, and out of place, but nice.

Even my hunger takes a back seat to the soothing sensation and her presence.

“Perhaps I should allow myself to be hurt more often,” I mutter. “If it results in this kind of care.”

There is a small pinch on top of my hand, where it rests over my knee. I glance down to see Erin with my flesh between her fingers, squeezing it in admonition.

“Stop it,” she says. There is no ire in her tone, though, and I swear she is suppressing a grin. “Some of these are very deep. It’s a wonder you’re still breathing normally.”

I may not have been if she hadn’t decided to help me. If she’d run, or if she’d let me die —I stop myself before I give into those thoughts.

“Thank you.” The words are foreign. “For helping me.”

It’s strange to say them to another living being and even stranger to mean them.

The Grim are solitary. We take care of ourselves in whatever manner we see fit and without a thought to anything outside of our own survival.

But here is Erin, and I find myself oddly protective over her. It almost seems as though the feeling is mutual.

“There is something in the jar near the fireplace you could use—” I start.

There is no warning before the curtain over the door bursts open on an invisible wind. A long shadow framed in moonlight falls across the cabin floor, though I can’t see anything blocking the doorway. Decidedly not unconscious, the Ech yowls into the room, the sound high enough to lift my fur on end.

It all happens so fast.

I surge to my feet a wave of dizziness, ready to protect my little human, just as she’s knocked off her feet. She screeches, landing hard enough to cut off the terrified sound, before the Ech drags her toward the cabin door.

I have to move. Fear and fury mingle together inside of me, both emotions strong enough to tie my tongue and clench my heart into pieces.

It’s got her .

We should have killed the creature before it had a chance to rise. Why hadn’t I thought to make sure it was dead?

I roar, the sound burning my throat as I struggle toward the door. Erin is screaming from somewhere outside. The more primal part of me rises and takes hold, controlling my movements. There is no time left for rational thought. Not when she’s in danger.

Something else has taken my possession, has taken what’s mine.

A branch snaps somewhere to my left, and the Ech’s tail wraps around my wrist. In the blink of an eye, it hurls me forward.

I lose my balance and crash against the ground, pain and horror mingling inside of me at Erin’s cries for help.

The creature shrieks before its tail wraps around my neck and drags me backward. My claws are helpless to stop the movement, digging furrows in the ground, and suddenly the creature is on my back. Crashing into me and forcing me down, buckled beneath its weight.

Its claws rip across the wounds I already have and spray my blood.

Before it has a chance to score my throat, I turn on my side and ram my horns into its side.

Erin . Everything I do is for her.

The creature retreats, and I scan the forest for my tiny human.

There . I finally see her huddled against the side of a tree with her arms wrapped around her torso and blood dripping from her arm and shoulder.

This creature came into my territory and hurt Erin.

I might have been able to let it leave if it hadn’t attacked her, but now this is personal.

Its scaly skin makes it impervious to most attacks. This time, it won’t matter. I’m going to make sure when it goes down, it never recovers.

Pure rage fills me with fire, and when the underbrush shifts near me again, I rear up, swing my skull to the side and piercing the Ech on my horn. For half a heartbeat, it fails to react, and then its screech of fury and pain constricts my heart.

I shake him free, the Ech thuds to the ground. Rather than giving it a chance to move, I launch myself toward the impression in the grass, slamming the creature down onto the forest floor.

It roars in anguish, and I slam my shoulder down against it to keep it pinned. Sharp teeth gnash out and the Ech heaves upward like it’s going to shake me off.

I tuck my body in tight, rage adding strength to my attacks. The creature’s hot breath ruffles the hair along my neck and shoulders and I drive it down, the air rushing out of its lungs.

“Syros.”

Erin’s cry is almost too soft to hear above the roar of the creature and makes it hard for me to finish this when I want to go to her. To make sure she is okay.

My pulse thunders in my ears, adrenaline like lightning inside of me.

The creature thrashes underneath me but I bear down, keeping my footing and wrapping my hands around its skull. My claws dig deep through the scaly skin, piercing beneath it, and a single twist snaps its neck.

I grit my teeth. Lost to the sensation, the world narrows, constricts, and I keep wrenching the skull to the side even as the body goes lax beneath me.

Finally, I pull the head free and feel the torso drop beneath me.

This fucking monster. It got what it deserved.

“Syros? Are you all right?”

Erin’s voice draws me out of my head, and the bloodlust slips away moment by moment, leaving only a cold and horrible reality behind. I slowly lift myself up and away from the dead Ech, turning until I find her again in the trees.

She’s curled in on herself and hasn’t attempted to move. I draw in a deep breath and her scent is full of the rank stench of sweat and fear.

I approach her slowly, holding out my arms, but she only cowers and turns herself into a small ball.

“I’m not the one who needs to worry. It hurt you,” I grind out.

“Its tail cut my ankle and my arms are sliced up. I tried to defend myself.” Her voice is reedy and small.

Even from here, I can see she’s ashen from the loss of blood. And she’s still worried about me.

Pride filters through me. Yes, she did her best.

“Let me help you. It’s going to be okay,” I soothe.

“It hurts.” She cries, and the slight movement has fresh blood dripping from her wounds. “Everything hurts.”

“I’m going to make it better, little human.”

She’s immobile when I bend to take her in my arms. Drawing her up, I head back to the cabin , limping slightly.

I’m going to make it all better.