Page 67 of The Mirror of Beasts

I saw only a bare stone wall.

“Perhaps this is a forest after all,” the hag sneered. “What will you do, little fox?”

“You, be quiet,” Neve said, throwing the fabric cover over the mirror again.

And in the merciful stretch of silence that followed, the elevator dinged.

A moment later, before I could even think to move, three shadowed figures burst into the warehouse, their chests heaving, reeking of blood and sweat.

“Oh gods,” one was chanting, his body shaking, “gods—”

Their tuxedos hung from them in tatters, the once-white shirts splattered with enough gore to make me gag.

“Hey!” Emrys barked at them. “Where’s the—”

When they turned to us, it was as if that last veneer of humanity had been ripped away from them and what was left in their haunted eyes spoke to their most basic, primal instinct. Survive. And through the dark veil of pain and terror that had them in its grip, they reacted like the wounded animals they were.

One had a work axe in his hand, and I watched in slow horror as he threw it directly at Caitriona’s head. As she leaned back, dodging it, he limped forward with a ferocious scream. “You won’t take me!”

“We’re not hunters!” Olwen cried. One of the men lowered his head and charged toward her with death in his eyes. She threw out a hand with a sharp grunt, and the blunt force of wind knocked the man back into the nearest case. The glass fractured as he struck it, shards slicing into him as he slumped to the ground.

I leapt back as the third man tried to swipe the jagged stone across my chest like a dagger, spit flying as he screamed at me—just screamed, as if he could breathe his desperate rage into my body and infect me with it. I backed away, bumping into one of the worktables, feeling across it for something to protect myself with.

Emrys appeared behind him, a vase in his hand, and smashed it into the man’s skull. The man’s scream died with a whimper as he collapsed, the whites of his eyes flashing as he sank into unconsciousness. I stared at Emrys, my lungs working like bellows, and he stared back, his eyes lit with fear.

“You—” I began. A clatter rose from down the hall—the sound of hooves against stone.

I swung my gaze toward Caitriona as she caught her attacker around the neck and held him in the crook of her arm.

“Where is the hidden escape path?” she demanded. “Where?”

The sound of horse hooves thundered in my ears, rattling the ceiling, shaking the furniture in the room like a cup of dice.

It didn’t matter what the man told us. We were out of time. Caitriona caught my eye, understanding even before I did. She released him and he fled to the far end of the room, disappearing into the shadows. He moaned, frantically running along the walls as he searched for a doorway that never appeared.

I barely had time to get the word out. “Hide!”

We scattered to the four corners of the room, Olwen and Caitriona running for stacks of empty crates, Neve for the small fleet of covered antique cars. But Emrys was gone. The warehouse shrouded itself in shadows around me, my heart pounding so hard it was painful.

“Run, little fox!” the hag sang out, her voice barely muffled by the thick velvet thrown over the frame. “Wherever shall you hide from the hunters?”

Adrenaline gave me the last burst of speed I needed to reach a baroque armoire painted with scenes of fairies.

All the modern cabinets around me would be locked or be storing something. But this—this was open. The lower half was filled with drawers, but I could dislodge the upper shelf and climb up into it, curling my legs in tight to my chest.

I had only just got the doors shut when one flung open again.

“Seriously?” I whispered.

Emrys’s pale face hovered in front of mine, just as shocked to see me. But there was no choice; at the sound of approaching voices, I gripped his wrist and hauled him up beside me, narrowly avoiding being kneed in the face as his long limbs tangled with mine. The wood groaned beneath our combined weight.

But the old wood somehow held.

“This feels familiar,” he breathed out. I elbowed him a bit harder than I’d meant to trying to shut the doors again, but with both of us inside where no human was meant to be, there was no way to completely close them. We had a clear line of sight to the entrance as the first of the hunters arrived.

“No,” the last man moaned, sinking onto his knees. “Please—please—I have a family—I can pay you—”

I held my breath, suddenly terrified that the slightest rustle of fabric would alert them to our presence. The bracelet on my wrist pressed into my skin, and I forced myself to concentrate on that, not on worrying about whether or not the others had found a safe enough place to hide.

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