Dante’s Equation

But as he moved, the bu

What if the skalkits smelled him? Or heard? Or what if Eya

He went on.

From the trees behind Eya

And while he cut, Denton did not feel brave. He’d thought that he might, once he was in action, that some latent testosterone might kick in but, no. He was petrified and sweating and nauseous and not remotely manly. He hated this.

The vines broke. Eya

Denton wanted to turn immediately and flee but he made himself edge around the tree to make sure she was okay. The skalkits came into view. One of the skalkits was yawning hugely, but one—the smart, evil one—was already looking at his next victim. He was stalking the boy with that intent expression. The Sapphian was tied to the tree, his head slack on his chest in either unconsciousness or resignation.

For a moment, Denton was mesmerized. Then he remembered that he was, like, in danger, and he turned to look at Eya

Good old Eya

He motioned at her to go and started backing away toward the woods himself, quietly, quietly. And for a moment he thought they were actually going to make it. The skalkits were full and not paying attention and, anyway, the boy appeared to be next on the menu. They were going to survive this intact, and then all he had to figure out was how to get her…

Eya

Denton ran through about a million curses in his head. Of course it couldn’t have been that easy. Oh, no! He had way too much payback coming for that. Somewhere up there, someone was having a laugh riot.

He ran into the trees, still cursing. He ran for quite aways before he realized what he was doing. He was ru

He stopped, overcome with frustration. He stood there debating with himself. It was the old Denton and the new having it out. The old Denton was adamant, and he had a point. He had already risked a lot to free Eya

Crap.

He got glimpses of the clearing through the leaves as he snuck back, spear in one hand, knife in the other, and neither one feeling any less ridiculous. He saw the skalkit nuzzle the vine that held the unconscious boy’s arms, lips drawn back, teeth gnashing. He saw Eya

Denton stopped at the edge of the woods, not knowing what to do or if he’d do anything at all. Everything seemed to be happening so slowly. The skalkit’s nuzzling loosened the boy and he fell, slumping forward. He was delicately caught and lifted in the skalkit’s open mouth. Eya

Man. She was a freaking lunatic.

The skalkit saw Eya

The unusual sounds attracted the attention of the second skalkit, who looked up and let out a bellow that was so loud and so enraged that it made every hair on Denton’s head stand to attention. But Eya

The skalkit had her left arm and shoulder and upper chest in its mouth, and it was not being delicate. Her legs kicked and jerked. She pounded at the skalkit’s nose with her fists.

And that was it. Denton found himself plowing out of the trees. He was ru

For a moment, as he closed the distance between them, he was both in his body and observing himself, stupefied, from someplace high above. Then he reached Eya

The skalkit’s cry became deeper, more enraged, but it did not fall over or give up. No, it was still very much alive and more dangerous than ever. Gripped only by blind necessity now—kill or be killed—Denton pushed down on the handle of the spear, fishing around inside the skalkit, looking for the heart. It was hard. The skalkit thrashed. The handle of the spear cracked.

Then something struck him a massive blow from behind. He flew, like a pebble being tossed, and struck the ground. It almost knocked the breath out of him. He gasped and rolled over. Above him the second skalkit had discarded the boy and now fully, enthusiastically focused on ripping him to shreds. It waved its clawed feet at him, letting out a growling yelp of lust and greed and rage.

Denton lay there, looking up at the hideous, deadly thing. And he laughed.

Ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. He had no idea where it came from. It was not a feeling Denton Wyle had ever had before. But suddently he felt freaking great. He was not afraid. Even with that thing hovering over him, he was not afraid. For the first time in his life he felt free and powerful and so brilliantly, wonderfully pleased with himself.

He, Denton Wyle, was fighting two enormous skalkit. And he loved it.

“Denton!” Eya

He rolled out of the way just as the skalkit’s front legs came crashing down to crush him. He bounced to his feet, grabbing the knife from his belt.

Ten feet away, he could see Eya