Page 93 of A Hunter for Luna

“Mine,” the creature hissed. The words were thick and hard to understand, as if spoken underwater.

She raked her nails across Luna’s arm, tearing her shirt. Frost bloomed instantly, ice crackling along her skin and the fabric, then vanishing as Luna’s magic reacted. Luna gritted her teeth, twisting away, but the Rusalka lunged again, relentless as a spring flood.

Pip coughed, spitting a tiny flame at the woman.

I forced myself up, legs still sluggish, head still reeling. “Luna!”

The Rusalka’s face twisted, her pretty face warping into something monstrous. She grabbed Luna by the throat and dragged her back toward the water, her grip tightening.

Wisps of those fingers drifted off and the creature screamed but didn’t loosen her grip.

Luna gagged, struggling, her dagger slipping from her fingers, clawing at the hands, trying to loosen them.

Panic surged through me, cutting through the last of the fog. My hand found my sword, but I knew—steel wouldn’t stop this thing.

Fire. I needed fire. Pip coughed again, a larger flame this time, and the rusalka flinched from the heat.

I reached deep, deeper than before, past the cold that still clung to my veins. Heat sparked in my palm. Starlight could call fire, but I’d never bothered; the darkness suited me better.

Desperation added itself and flame flickered, then roared to life along the blade. I didn’t think. I moved.

I slashed at the Rusalka’s back. The fire met wet, rotting silk and stagnant lake water.

She screamed, the sound spiraling to the sky. Steam rose where the flames touched her, eating through the mist that had clung to her form.

She let go of Luna, turning on me with an expression of pure hatred. Her nails lashed out.

I dodged, the nail making frost bloom on my armor. My sword slashed her arm, cutting deep. She howled, but still, she didn’t fall.

Luna coughed, stumbling back—but then she found her fallen dagger. With a growl, she drove it straight into the Rusalka’s back.

The creature froze. Her blue eyes widened in something almost like shock. Then, with a final, wretched sob, she crumbled—turning to water, then mist, which rolled away from us, vanishing in the sunlight.

Silence fell, broken only by the ragged sound of our breathing.

Luna wiped a shaking hand across her mouth, wincing. “That,” she gasped, “wasn’t easy.”

I sat heavily on the damp ground, rubbing at the bruises already forming on my wrists. The phantom touch of the rusalka still clung to me, like I’d never be warm again. I looked at Luna, at the raw, red mark on her throat where the creature had grabbed her.

My gut twisted.

“Are you hurt?” My voice came out too sharp. Too uncertain.

She pressed a hand to her arm where the ice had touched her. “Yeah… Just give me a second.”

Pip leaned against her, crooning. I wanted to join it, hold her.

I watched her, my mind racing. She’d been off this entire fight. And I wasn’t sure if it was the Rusalka’s magic, pregnancy, or something far more dangerous.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer.

Luna gazed over and sighed. “For all Biter is a pain, at least he doesn’t run off like Dawn.”

Once again, her horse had bolted once she no longer held the reins. On the other hand, it was a sensible reaction, really.

Even considering the hour to catch him, we didn’t make good distance for the rest of the day and camped early. I didn’t like how strained Luna looked.

The sun hung low on the horizon as we finished eating, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. I tended to the fire, trying to ignore the persistent ache in my muscles from the day's journey and especially from our encounter with the Rusalka.

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