Page 25 of Faun Over Me

“The other day, I went for a walk, and I—”

“Cricket!”

She flinched, ears shooting straight up and body freezing at Avery’s outburst. Her fingers throbbed, protesting in pain. It was an effort to break her prey-driven stare away from Avery and force it down to her hands, which gripped the edge of the table so hard the tips of her fingers were bent back.

“What?” she managed through clenched teeth.

“You’re not supposed to be walking on your foot, I mean, hoof, er, ankle.”

“How else am I supposed to get around?” Avery had no answer to that. Instead, she watched as Cricket slowly released the table, flexing her fingers and curling them into a loose fist as she worked blood back into her extremities. “I was in the woods behind the piano room, and something had bedded down there. Something big.”

“Do you think it’s what chased you?”

“Probably.”

At that, Avery reached across the table, brushing Cricket’s elbow with her fingers. “Are you okay?”

She stilled at the touch, gaze dropping to Avery’s hand, which stayed right where it was on Cricket’s arm. She flicked her gaze up to Avery’s face and—oak and ivy, Gods dammit—she blushed and pulled her hand away. But not all the way. It stayed on Cricket’s side of the table, fingers outstretched as if the human were reaching for her, and what in the hells Cricket was supposed to do with that, she had no idea.

“It had eaten, too,” she said, successfully ruining the moment. Avery pulled away, throat bobbing as she hugged herself. “I don’t know if it was human or animal, but there was … evidence,” Cricket kept talking, needing to fill the moment with something other than the thought of Avery’s fingers, Avery’s tongue, Avery’s spring-sky eyes. “Blood and guts on the undergrowth, half-buried bones, and the stench—” She stuck her tongue out, crossed her eyes, and gagged.

“That sounds,” Avery swallowed, “monstrous.”

“Of course it does. The thing is a monster,” Cricket grinned. Avery raised an eyebrow, and it was unfair how endearing sarcasm was on her face. “Okay, fine. I’m technically a monster too.”

“I didn’t say that,” Avery demurred. She dropped her eyes, lashes dusting cheeks blushing a delightful pink. A flutter built in Cricket’s belly, feeling all too much like hope, and just as quickly as it rose, she stamped it out.

“You didn’t have to.”

Avery snapped her head up at the change in Cricket’s tone, but what did she expect? Her dad was involved with the Georgia men, and no matter how cute she was, Avery couldn’t help her. She could barely tolerate being around her, so what was the point of enjoying that blush or admiring those eyelashes?

“Why are you so intent on hating me?” she asked, her eyes shining. “I’ve been nothing but nice since I found you in the woods. I thought—”

“I’m not some stray you picked up, Avery.” She straightened at her name, and Cricket found she liked how the word formed on her tongue. “I’m a faun, my home is being threatened, and your dad has some connection to the people doing it.”

“That’s a specious claim, Cricket,” she retorted, softening the sharp tone on her name. “My dad works with a lot of people on a lot of different projects. Whatever is going on in Green Bank is just one of many—”

“But it’s the one that affects me,” Cricket snapped. “You know what? Nevermind. Why did he bring up the you-know-what?”

“He said one had been attacking the humans in Green Bank.”

“It can’t be.” She shook her head. Even though she herself had been hunted, Cricket couldn’t be certain it was the monster Avery suggested. Or maybe, she just didn’t want to believe that was the creature targeting Green Bank. The you-know-what was a thing of legend, predating their fall through the worlds. Warnings of its presence and appetite had been shared with the faun, not by them.

Or maybe she was in denial.

“We would know about any attacks if they were from that specific being,” Cricket doubled down. “It’s part of our agreement with the humans in town. We protect them from whatever stalks the night; they keep us secret from the rest of the world.”

“But you were attacked.”

“A ridge away from Green Bank on my way here.” And chased in the woods behind the camp. “And then I found where whatever it is had bed down. It’s not a you-know-what.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I know what I saw, okay?” She pushed down on the table and rose onto her hooves. “It’s large and muscular, and yeah, it had a skull for a head but no antlers.” She stepped over the bench, willfully ignoring how Avery rose when she teetered on her injured hoof. The thing in the woods hadn’t had antlers, she was sure of it. Those had been branches. And it had been huge and hulking, not emaciated, but Cricket had been terrified, only catching glimpses in flashes of lightning. And then she’d been hidden in the thornbush, only able to see its claw-tipped paw.

Gods, she was getting to be no better than her family, questioning herself as much as they cast their doubts on her claims. But Cricket knew what she had seen just as well as she knew something sketchy was happening in Green Bank. She just needed more evidence.

“You saw it in a storm,” Avery argued, “by your own admission. How can you be so sure?”

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