Page 58 of Primal Hunger
There must be more things tucked away that I haven’t had a chance to explore yet, hidden and just waiting for me to use them.
But seriously—do I really think we’ll be able to do this?
Tyler isn’t exactly a professional when it comes to paranormal investigation. The fact that he stayed behind once I took off is great, and him sticking around? Being willing to help me? A pure miracle.
Is it really so odd to think we can amplify the static to create an actual bridge?
I suppose stranger things have happened.
I clear my throat. “I have a few odds and ends,” I tell him. “We’ll figure something out, as long as you are willing to stick around a little bit longer.”
A beat of silence stretches into two, and then he says, “I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back, Erin. I feel responsible for what happened.”
My brows knit together. “Why would you be responsible?”
Another terrible roar sounds from outside. A dull thud like two bodies colliding makes me wince. Whatever is happening, Syros is fighting, and the tendril of terror inside of me grows into a sensation that’s impossible to ignore.
Uh oh.
“I should have never let you run into the woods that night. If I’d been stronger, if I’d insisted, we would have stayed in town and locked our doors—” Tyler starts.
“I wouldn’t have listened to you.”
I’d just like to see the poor guy try and stop me.
One of the beasts—I can’t tell if it’s Syros or not—growls. The sound is immediately cut off and a low whining screech of pain follows.
“Tyler, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”
My attention is firmly on the door and it’s impossible to look away. Not when one of them is whimpering in pain. What if Syros is hurt?
If another Grim takes him down, there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to live through it. Not to mention I’ll lose my access to his collection.
It’s better to stick with the monster you know, rather than the one you don’t, right?
My spine snaps straight, my teeth on edge, and my hair lifts in a wave of goosebumps. It sounds like a knock ‘em out, drag’ em out fight, and it’s almost too terrible to consider what might happen if Syros is the injured one.
I barely spare a thought before I shut the radio off, cutting off Tyler’s worried reply. I’m on autopilot, fear propelling me toward the door, and before I know it, I’m reaching for the thick curtain draped over the opening.
The sounds outside are getting louder, more vicious, and I can’t take it anymore. I know it’s dangerous to leave, but I have to see what’s going on. To assure myself that Syros is fine.
Steeling myself, I pull back the curtain and poke my head out. Syros is face to face with another monster, and whatever it is, it’s not a Grim; it’s much worse.
The creature has to be at least ten feet tall, towering over Syros with long, white limbs that stick out starkly against the dark forest. The thing’s skeletal fingers are tipped with foot-long claws, its bulbous head packed with several eyes and mouths. To my horror, each mouth is filled with razor-sharp teeth.
I watch silently, heart galloping in my chest as they circle one another… sort of. Syros is crouched, his head shifting left and right like he can’t zero in on the beast that’s right in front of him. Like he can’t see him.
The new monster steps to the left and Syros looks right, giving the creature the opening it needs. It lurches forward, slamming into Syros and knocking him back onto the ground and pinning him there.
I clap my hand over my mouth to cut off a scream, my eyes falling to Syros’ form. Only then do I notice his wounds, several small ones in his chest and arms that are oozing blood that glistens in the moonlight.
He’s hurt.
My stomach gives a sickening twist.
Syros swings at the monster pinning him to the ground, missing every time. Not only do his attacker’s limbs help it stay out of reach, but it doesn’t seem like Syros knows where to aim.
A sickening realization slams into me, and I lose my ability to breathe.
