Page 174 of Her Rabid Beasts

My father’s going to kill them. I just know it.

I have to do something, I just don’t know what.

Cresting over the anima dorm, Christine shouts out to me from her station above the door and a sudden thought strikes me.

“Christine!”I scream mentally, hoping she can hear telepathic messages. “Secure the school, don’t let anyone out, including Lyle!”

The stone gargoyle salutes me with her stick-like hand as I fly past.

I beat my wings to gain height, soaring above the mounting chaos as the wind stings at the fresh open wounds on my belly. Guards are streaming in from all corners, shouting and running, guns raised, following my three mates. My barely healed wounds burst open at the physical activity and I send more healing to staunch the bleeding, but it’s hard to concentrate on everything at the same time.

“Shoot, shoot, shoot!” cries one of the guards.

The protective magical dome looms ahead of me along the perimeter of the concrete wall surrounding the school grounds—buzzing faintly and threatening to chargrill me into KFC on impact. I need to go to ground to stop my mates, except there’s five guards standing at the head of the driveway, each with a darting rifle trained on my flying ass.

I dodge the first, but the second clips me on my shoulder. Letting out a shrill cry, I stutter in mid-air, my left wing hanging limply.

Then I’m falling. My functional right wing frantically flaps to try and slow my landing, but it does nothing. It’s too much. The pain in my stomach, the weakness from the psychic shields being torn apart, from the sedative dart…

I hit the eucalyptus trees bordering the long driveway, tumbling through the branches, each impact rattling my brain and jarring my bones. Somehow, my powerful feet manage to claw into one of the branches and find a grip. I sway precariously, before righting myself and sagging against the tree trunk.

My shoulder burns like acid has been poured into it, but I’m pretty sure it’s just a graze, with no sedative injected. Thanking my lucky stars, I try to hide within the sparse foliage of the young eucalypt. The guards race for me, but I lose sight of them as I huddle behind the thick, smooth trunk.

“Come out, Aquinas!” shouts a female guard. “We’ve got you surrounded!”

Catching my breath, I angle myself so I can see the front gates at the end of the long driveway.

The harsh light of the setting sun washes the scene in red-orange light that hurts my eyes, but it means I can see what’s happening easily. There are at least six school guards gathered by the ornate cast iron gate, along with the giant figure of Ruben. He’s pushing both gates wide open while the guards look back and forth in confusion.

Because before them, prowling back and forth across the width of the school driveway, like three angry, impatient predators, are my mates.

Lyle, Savage and even Scythe appear huge compared to everyone else, hair and fur glinting like dawn, dusk, and starlight under the golden, setting sun.

“Lyle!”I scream telepathically.“Scythe, Savage, stop!”

None of them falter in their pacing.

But then the school gates are fully open.

Three heavy black Jeeps sit on the other side, their engines rumbling through my eagle’s ears.

They’re parked sideways. Like they’re blocking the exit.

I silently thank Christine. The electrified dragon-magic that surrounds the school in a dome extends right down to the ground because I can see it shimmering a pale blue between my mates and the outside world.

It’s the only reason they haven’t charged through yet.

The school guards look confused, shifting uncertainly. No doubt a couple of them are on Scythe’s payroll. They leave their guns angled across their bodies and talk to each other, monitoring the interaction between Ruben and someone in the Jeep closest to them.

The window of the first Jeep rolls back up and I’m close enough now to see the Naga family coat of arms glinting silver on the side door.

It opens, admitting a long, black leg and booted foot.

“I can sense you.”My father has a dangerous sort of smirk on his thin lips as he steps out of the Jeep.“Not this time, Aurelia. Not this time.”

I freeze in shock and fear. The wounds across my abdomen burn in an echo of his words. A promise of what will come to pass here.

My father stands with the presence of a born king. Wiry and tall, an impenetrable wraith made of will and venom and power. His signature long black duster flaps in the breeze and he clasps his hands in front of himself as if he’s not at all bothered by theline of predators with their eyes fixed on him. I share his olive complexion, his raven-black hair. But our eyes are different. His are sunken and dark, as if he can see all the bad things in the world and doesn’t give a single damn.

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