Angelfall

On the other hand, what are my options? Run through the forest? In the dark? Alone? With a monster that tore apart half a dozen armed men?

I frantically beat my brain for a third option. I come up with nothing.

I’ve hesitated long enough. Being found by the monster as I stand frozen in indecision is the stupidest way to die that I can think of. Rock or hard place?

I steel myself to ignore the creepy sensation crawling up my back. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping to calm myself. It doesn’t work.

I turn away from camp and plunge into the forest.

CHAPTER 22

I can’t help but look to see if there’s anything I need to worry about sneaking up behind me. Not that a monster capable of tearing apart armed soldiers would bother sneaking. I wonder why we didn’t evolve with eyes in the back of our heads?

The farther I walk into the woods, the tighter the darkness closes in on me. I tell myself that this isn’t really suicide. The woods are full of living creatures—squirrels, birds, deer, rabbits—and the monster can’t kill them all. So my chance of being among the majority of living things in the forest that will survive tonight are pretty good. Right?

I move through the dark woods by instinct, hoping I’m heading north. Within a short time, I begin to have serious doubts about which direction I’m moving. I read somewhere that when lost and left to their own devices, people tend to walk in large circles. What if I’m walking the wrong way?

Doubts erode my reason and I can feel the panic bubbling in my chest.

I give myself a mental slap. This is not the time to panic. I promise I’ll let myself panic when I’m safe and sound, hidden in a nice house with a stocked kitchen with Paige and Mom.

Yeah, right. The thought brings a twitch to my lips as if I might grin. Maybe I really am losing it.

I see menace behind every rustle and shifting shadow, behind every bird taking flight and squirrel scrambling on a branch.

After what feels like hours of trekking through the woods in the dark, one of the shadows shifts from a tree like so many wind-blown branches. Only this one keeps moving away from the tree. It separates itself from the larger mass of shadows, then merges into another, greater darkness.

I freeze.

It could have been a deer. But the shadow legs didn’t move right. It might have been something on two feet. Or more accurately, several somethings on two feet.

My hunch proves right when the shadows fan out, surrounding me. I hate being right all the time.

So, what stands on two legs, is three or four feet tall, and growls like a pack of dogs? It’s hard to think of much other than those bodies scattered about the forest floor with missing parts.

A shadow rushes toward me so fast it looks like a dark blur. Something bumps into my arm. I step back, but whatever bumped my arm is already long gone.

The other shadows shift. Some dart forward and back, looking like shadows begi

I stagger back.

Our neighbor Justin used to have a set of needle-like piranha teeth displayed on his mantel. He told us once that the carnivorous and sometimes ca

The chorus of growling rises. It sounds like a mix of animal growls and disturbingly human grunting.

Another hit. This time, a sharp pain stabs up from my thigh, like I’d been sliced by razors. I shiver as a warm pool spreads around the pain.

Then I get bumped twice more in rapid succession. Is the blood whipping them into a frenzy?

Another hits my wrist. I cry out this time as soon as I feel it.

This one isn’t just a quick slice. It’s a lingering one, if a flashing shadow can be said to linger. The burning hits me a second after I realize I’ve been—bitten? I’m sure I’d be less scared if I could just see what they look like. There’s something particularly terrifying about not being able to see the things attacking you.

My panting is so loud now that I might as well be screaming.

CHAPTER 23

I catch motion out of the corner of my eye. I don’t even have time to brace for another hit before Raffe stands before me, muscles tense around his sword, facing the demons. I hadn’t even heard the rustle of leaves. One moment he’s not there, the next moment, he is.

“Run, Penryn.”

I don’t need another invitation. I run.

But I don’t run far, which is probably not my smartest move. I can’t help it. I hesitate behind a tree to watch Raffe fight the demons.

Now that I know what to look for, I can tell there are about half a dozen of them. Definitely ru

Their small forms could be human or angel, although they don’t move like either. When they go into hyperdrive, their motions are fluid, as though that is their natural pace. These things are definitely not human. Maybe these are some form of nasty angel breed. Aren’t cherubs always pictured as children?

Raffe catches one as it tries to whiz by him. Two others had started going for him but stop when they see Raffe slice through the little demon.

It screeches something awful as it flails on the forest ground.

The others aren’t daunted, though, as they run at Raffe to do their bump and run routine and shove him off balance. I figure it won’t take long before they start biting or stinging or whatever it is they do.

“Raffe, behind you!”

I grab the nearest rock and take a heartbeat to aim. I’ve been known to hit the bull’s-eye playing darts, but I’ve also been known to miss the dartboard altogether. Missing the dartboard here means hitting Raffe.

I hold my breath, take aim at the nearest shadow, and throw with as much force as I can muster.

Bull’s-eye!

The rock smashes into a shadow, stopping it cold. It’s almost fu

Raffe swings wildly with his sword, slicing a demon’s chest. “I told you to run!”

So much for gratitude. I bend and grab another rock. This one is jagged and big enough so that I can barely lift it. I might be getting greedy, but I lob it at one of the demons anyway. Sure enough, it lands a foot away from the fight.

This time, I go for a smaller, more aerodynamic stone. I’m careful to stay out of reach of the fighting circle, and the low demons let me. I guess my stone throwing doesn’t even show up on their radar. I take aim at another shadow, then throw it with all my might.

It hits Raffe on the back.

It must have hit him on his wound because he stumbles forward, staggers two steps, then stops just in front of two demons. His sword is down, almost low enough to trip him, and he’s out of balance as he faces them. I swallow my heart, shoving it from my throat back down into my chest.

Raffe manages to lift the sword. But he doesn’t have time to stop them from biting him.

He cries out. My stomach clenches in sympathetic pain.

Then, a strange thing happens. Stranger than what’s been happening, that is. The low demons spit and make a distinct noise of disgust. They spit as if trying to get the bad taste out of their mouths. I wish I could see what they look like. I’m sure they’re making repelled expressions.