Page 34 of Touch of Evil

She’s right. Whatever it is moves in multiple serpentine motions, creating patterns that mirror the ones in the sand where Ted was murdered. “You seeing what I’m seeing?” I mutter.

“Yes,” she says. “This is what killed Ted.”

“Fall back,” I say. My steps are careful as I guide Emme back toward the tunnel we took to get here.

The creature advances, slipping from the mounds of stone and disappearing into the sand, the grooves it leaves behind the only evidence of its presence.

I growl, low and deep. “Emme, it’s right beneath us. Get back to the tunnel, now.”

Emme never gets the chance.

A hand punches through the sand at my feet, shoving me backward and slamming me into a pile of rock.

I scramble to stand. Something wide and muscular knocks my feet out from under me.

Emme screams.

And then she’s gone.

Chapter Ten

Emme

Agony spikes from my ankle and stabs its way to my throat, releasing my screams. The bones in my leg snap and my foot separates at the joint.

Through the anguish, a speck of clarity pokes through.

I expect the creature to loosen its hold and slide free from the skin that’s only barely keeping my foot attached. Whatever this creature is, he is strong. It’s not magic pulling me through—a spell meant to drag me to the conjurer—it’s something corporeal and evil; its smooth exterior cold and unrelenting.

Its latch tightens, snaking up and around my leg. I start to black out, the pain too much to take.

Push through the hurt.It’s what Celia always told me.That’s how you win a fight. That’s how you survive.

My vision spins in and out, the torment so blinding, I only catch flashes of my surroundings.

Bits of light from the ceiling zoom past me and chunks of wet sand pummel my face. I’m dragged to the opposite side of another cavern, my nails breaking and my fingertips tearing open as I snatch at the sandy floor.

There’s nothing to grip. I reach out with myforce, trying to snag something—anything— to keep me in place. I barely touch what might be the top layer of the bubble when I’m hauled beneath the crumbling rock.

The impact stuns me with multiple punches to my face and body I can’t possibly brace for.

Bren howls my name. I barely hear him. I’m buried beneath the sand, the weight pressing against my chest forcing the air from my lungs.

The mixture of stone and sand beats against me, promising me death. I can’t move, the heaviness incapacitating me. I’m tugged through the rough terrain, the creature that has me reminding me that I’m not the one in control with every harsh pull.

My mouth gasps for air as I’m hauled through another pocket of space. I barely manage more than a few gulps when the painful chill of freezing water slaps my feet. I’m yanked under, into an abyss that swallows me further away and farther from Bren.

Bren. What will this thing do to him?

I kick with my good foot and flail through the frigid temperature and darkness. This thing is enjoying the ride it’s taking me on. It shakes me and moves faster, incited by my suffering and terror.

The water grows colder as I’m dunked deeper, icing my bones but failing to numb the pain. The alveoli in my lungs pop in horrid bursts, caving my ribs inward as throbbing spasms eat their way through my body.

I’m consumed by it all, the fear, the injuries, the knowledge that I may never see Bren again.

Bren…God, where is he?

I lose consciousness. For a long, long time, there’s only blackness until a warm bright light takes form in the horizon.

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