Page 39 of All Hallows Game

Oh, god.

“We,” I echoed, cold all over as I hung up. My stomach lurched violently. I slammed on the breaks, throwing open the door the moment vomit burned up my throat. I moaned pitifully as it sprayed the grass, the cramp in my stomach all the worse for its lack of food.

I fumbled in the glove compartment for the Stanley cup I kept in my car and gulped down water, spitting out the rancid taste. And still that word repeated.

We.

When we’re a little less busy.

What was she doing to my brother? Another nauseating cramp of sickness had me retching on the side of the road, but my stomach was empty. I choked down water and slumped back into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut with weak arms.

Three more crows sat on the wall that wound along the road. That made six. Again.

Four crows for wealth, five crows for sickness, six crows for death.

My hand shook as I reached for the steering wheel again, but I couldn’t bring myself to move the car forward. They watched me, and I watched them, and I knew without a doubt they were Nightmare’s creatures. They were there the day I found Caroline mutilated, and their presence here now…

What was she doing to my brother? And why was my phone cut off from everyone? Whatever she had planned, I couldn’t call for help, couldn’t warn Honey, couldn’t tell Tor to bring the other gods or—

A dark shadow shot across the bottom of the road, too big to be a dog. A bear? Fuck, did Ford’s End have bears? The shivery feeling intensified until I shuddered, and I couldn’t deny that the birds were indeed an omen. Because the huge creature I saw loping its way across the moors towards the village at an alarming rate was covered in black fur, but unlike a bear it had inky ram’s horns and claws the size of my forearm. There was only one word I could use to describe it: monster.

A rush of noise filled my head, a dark compulsion swelling in my chest. The familiar seductive heat of violence wrapped around me.

Slaughter it before it can hurt anyone else.

I blinked, watching that creature bound across the moors to the village, and my heart rate steadied. My back straightened; my fingers unclenched.

Yes. I would hunt it and kill it, and my friends and family would be safe.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CAT

Wind whipped my hair out of my face as I ran, adrenaline surging through my veins and the darkness assuring me this wasn’t a terrible idea that was about to get me slaughtered. I didn’t stop to think about being cut to ribbons; the wrath of madness had a hold of me, so I barely noticed anything except the huge dark shape in the distance.

I clambered over a low wall, grunting when my feet slammed into the hard-packed grass on the other side and my ankle faltered.

Don’t let it escape, the darkness urged, brushing against me like an affectionate cat. That beast killed Caroline and will kill anyone else it comes across. Honey. Wil. Miz. Anyone.

I gritted my teeth and forged onward, running through the ache in my ankle, keeping the monster in my sights as it vaulted walls and landed on the bottom of the road. It was so close to the village that the florist refreshing her stock of red roses and purple tulips would see it if she turned around. My stomach knotted at the thought of her being attacked and I opened my mouth to shout a warning but a sudden slash of pain scythed through my chest. My legs fell from under me.

I landed on my knees in the grass, tears pricking my eyes as the sharp pain sliced through my heart and further, deeper. Nightmare—this had to be her sabotaging me so I didn’t stop her monster. What else could it be?

“Run!” I croaked to the florist, but my voice wasn’t loud enough to carry over the rush of the wind and sea.

I ground my teeth, curling my hands into fists that I used to get my feet back under me. It felt like my insides were being cut apart, like cruel hands left bruises on my very soul, but I refused to let Nightmare win.

The darkness was conspicuously quiet as I got unsteadily to my feet, stumbling to a wall for something to prop me upright. My eyesight blurred, the pain coming in fierce waves that threatened to black out the island around me, but I squinted until I saw the dark, bearlike shape of the monster. It was so close to Ford’s Flowers that I felt sick.

“Run!” I yelled, my voice raw.

The woman turned, the sky’s grey light making her circle-frame glasses flash silver, only curiosity on her warm brown face for a moment before she saw the creature barrelling towards her. The bunch of tulips in her hands hit the floor and she spun, her cute floral apron twirling in a circle as she ran for her life.

I ignored the pain splintering through my chest as I clambered over the last wall between me and Ford’s End village, my teeth gritted against the throbbing ache in my ankle, too. I couldn’t breathe as the woman ran down the picturesque village street, yelling warnings at the top of her lungs.

A woman sitting at one of the little tables outside the coffee shop caught sight of the creature, threw her book down without marking the page, and rushed inside the shop, slamming the door shut. Other customers pressed close to the glass but wisely kept inside. Down the road, a newsagent froze in the act of putting up a metal sign, the sixty-something man removing his flat cap as he stared at the black, horned animal bounding into the village.

“Run!” I screamed, my voice hoarse, not carrying far enough. My ankle buckled as I stumbled down the cobbles, no longer driven by bloodlust and revenge but a desperation to not see any more people ripped apart by this beast. Where did it even come from? I thought Nightmare was to blame because of the crows and the voicemail, but there was no denying that the monster was a wild animal. Not one I recognised, but it was real—flesh and blood, not smoke and magic. Not an omen. Not a curse.

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