Page 27 of The Beginning (Covert Moon, #1)

Adrenaline surged through my veins. I rocked on my side and pulled my free hand out from under my body.

I cast another hurried spell, grateful that it worked, freezing the dog’s face momentarily with a halt spell.

It howled once, mouth open and sounding off kilter, and then it whimpered, as it tipped over like a stuffed animal.

I scrambled backward, clumsy, scared, catching my breath, unable to comprehend what was happening.

“Marigold, wait,” the priest called. “You cannot leave!” He raised a hand, as if to stop me.

“The hell I can't,” I muttered. It felt like I was hanging onto sanity and clarity by a small thread.

Everything was in front of me as though I looked through a tunnel, with the priest and the frozen dog very clear, and everything else fading the farther it got from my line of vision. In the back of it all, searing pain.

I'd never felt this way before, but I knew, somehow, that I didn't have much time.

I stood up and ran from the church, through the wooden doors.

I jumped down the steps and ran through the graveyard, momentarily disoriented, wondering where to go.

The car. I needed to get to the car. I looked in the distance as the wind whipped my hair around my face.

There. I recognized the trees by the road where I had parked.

It would be faster to cut across the field.

Running through the graveyard, I grabbed the edge of one of the tombstones, and my hand exploded in pain.

I pulled my hand away and looked down and saw that my ring finger was missing.

I stared at it, not comprehending the empty space where my finger had been.

What the actual fuck?

My finger was gone .

Like… gone.

How strange.

I stared down at the space between my fingers where the missing digit should have been…

had always been. It didn't hurt at the moment, though it was still bleeding pretty freely. Thank the goddess for shock because I couldn’t access any of my healing magic at the moment…

but it seemed impossible that it was just… not there anymore.

How had this happened? I remembered the white hot burst of pain, the dog tugging on my hand… oh. Oh.

Fuck.

Had my finger been a snack for that beast?

I wasn't at my car yet, and the damn crazed dog was still nearby. Probably had rabies, too. Just for good measure, wouldn’t that be perfect?

I had to move.

Blood spewed from my hand as I ran. Movement behind me caught my ear. I cocked my head and listened. Was that someone breathing? The sense of déjà vu overwhelmed me at that moment, and I wondered if the man with the dreamy green eyes from my vision was following me.

My feet did not stop running.

I barreled through the graves and stumbled, pressing my hand into the grass, leaving blood on the blades.

I ran toward the trees, heart racing, my hands grabbing my chest as it burned with exertion.

The hand with the missing finger was throbbing after all that running, and it stung so fiercely that tears leaked down my cheeks.

But I couldn't stop now. Not until I got away from here.

I realized for the first time that this, whatever this was, wasn’t my sister's doing. It was so much bigger, and she was clearly in over her head.

I had to find Calyx. I had to get her away from these crazy people. She had no idea they were using her to get to me.

But for what?

My mind whirled as it tried to keep me upright, running, and focused while working through the pain.

I had to figure out what to do with my hand.

I tried to make a fist, but there was no way to pinch off the bleeding.

I clutched at my shirt and realized it too was torn and covered in blood.

I tore away a piece of the fabric and wrapped it, pressing it into the stump where my finger had been.

It suddenly didn't hurt anymore. I wondered idly if I was going into shock.

As long as I didn't move it, it seemed like a surreal figment. And if I closed my eyes I could still feel my finger. I pressed the balled-up fabric into the wound, willing it to stop bleeding. I got into my dad's car, fumbled with the keys, unable to use my right hand to start the engine.

I pulled away from the shoulder, gravel exploding out behind the car, tires squealing on the asphalt. I tried to get my bearings. The air from the car's vents blew over me, making my skin cold. I looked down and saw through the rips in my shirt that I had blood oozing from my abdomen.

I lifted what was left of my shirt and gaped at the gouges.

Three claws had torn across my midsection.

As I moved my arm to adjust and buckle the seat belts, pain shot through my left shoulder.

I pulled down the visor in the mirror, and tried to see if my shoulder was bloodied but I could not see a wound.

I tried to feel it with my injured hand but the pain was too great.

Spots clouded my vision and I felt like I might faint. I raced away from the church, holding onto consciousness, unsure what to do. I had to get away from here, get somewhere safe.