Booke of the Hidden by Jeri Westerson

Author:Jeri Westerson [Westerson, Jeri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781635760491
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2017-06-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

I smelled it this time. There was something trailing over my face, like lace or silk, and it smelled like turned earth and decay. I was on my back in the wet leaf duff while shadows swirled above me. I caught a glimpse of a white arm gleaming in the moonlight before it disappeared into the shadows again. Remarkably, I still had the crossbow in my hand, but I wasn’t about to fire, in case I hit Erasmus.

I turned, struggling onto my hands and knees. Something slammed into my head and pain exploded in a shower of stars. I flopped down on my stomach. The edges of my sight were darkening. No way was I going to let myself get knocked out and at the mercy of a succubus. I shook my head—and stopped when that made it worse. I just lay still, letting the darkness slip away and the light come back to my sight. I stumbled to my feet with the butt of the crossbow in my shoulder. Something was happening in the center of the glade but I couldn’t quite tell what I was looking at. Swirling shadow with flashes of pale skin and hair, which flew outward like flowing seaweed. It, too, was pale and captured the moonlight. But there was also darkness, and they intertwined like some strange bolero. A tornado of leaves surrounded them and the grass was mashed and muddied beneath it.

Them. I realized that Erasmus was wrestling with the creature.

“Kylie!” he yelled.

“Erasmus! I’m here!”

“Shoot!”

“I…I can’t see it. I don’t want to shoot you.”

“Dammit, woman, I said shoot!”

I squinted at the whirling mass of leaves, dust, shadow, and light. “But—” I had to trust him, didn’t I? I lifted the crossbow up to my shoulder, closed my eyes, and fired. It kicked back a little and I blinked as the quarrel shot forward with a twang of the string.

There was a shriek, a howl that I had heard before, and the churning mass roared and whipped, leaves flying like a giant blender. I raised a hand to my face to defend against the scratching leaves as they flung at me. Something shot outward and the leaves froze in the air for a long second before they simply fell to the ground, like cut puppet strings. The meadow was suddenly silent again, and it took another few moments for the first tentative crickets to begin their song once more.

A dark lump remained in the center of where the cyclone had been and I stepped closer, aiming the crossbow, now armed again. The closer I got, the tighter my hold of the weapon became, until I stood right over it. But when the moon passed beyond a cloud and cast its light, I could see that it was Erasmus.

“Oh my God!” I dropped the crossbow and fell to my knees. “Dammit, you said you’d be all right!” He was lying on his side. I ran my hands over him. “Erasmus! Don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.

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