Page 48 of Jewel of the Sea

Randall neither raised nor lowered his gun; his face was contorted with conflicting emotion again. “Aymee—”

“No! I’m done hearing about yourgoodintentions. From what I’ve seen and heard, there wasnointention of letting him live.”

“At this point, I don’t have any intention of letting either of you live,” Cyrus said.

“You kill me, and the entire town will turn on you.”

The man’s grin might as well have been filled with razor-sharp teeth — they would have accompanied its malice rather well.

“Most of the townsfolk think these things are dangerous. We tried to save you, but the monster was too quick…so we took it down to avenge your death.”

“Is that so, Randall?” Aymee asked.

Randall dropped his gaze. “It doesn’t need to be. We just...we just need to put the weapons down, and we can still talk this through.”

Something flickered in Aymee’s eyes as she looked at Randall — a hint of sorrow in her anger. “You’re just as monstrous as him.”

Arkon eased himself toward Aymee, moving slowly. Randall’s brows lowered over the bridge of his nose, falling over pained eyes.

Aymee looked at Arkon. “We’re going now.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Cyrus growled. He lunged forward and thrust his hand out.

Something glinted in the air. Arkon’s hearts skipped — it was the knife. He twisted his torso aside to avoid the flying blade. It skimmed across his chest, leaving a line of fire in its wake, and clattered against the cliffside.

“Arkon!” Aymee screamed.

Cyrus was already in motion when Arkon turned back.

The human had closed the distance between himself and Aymee. Before Arkon could react, Cyrus grabbed her wrists. She struggled, and he slammed his knee into her stomach.

The gun in her hand went off with a boom. Its recoil kicked the weapon from her grip as she doubled over with a wheeze.

Arkon surged toward them. Cyrus released Aymee and met Arkon’s charge, and they tumbled into the sand.

Skin a deep crimson, Arkon rolled atop Cyrus. The human swung his arms, fists balled. Arkon shrugged off the blows and coiled tentacles around Cyrus’s arms and legs, wrenching them apart; the man was strong, but not strong enough. Arkon slammed the edge of his fist down into Cyrus’s face. Again, and again, each time seeing Cyrus hit Aymee in his mind’s eye.

Warm blood splattered Arkon. The human’s struggles weakened.

Cyrus’s head lolled to the side, and his breath rattled. Arkon drew back for another blow.

He hesitated. These men had come to hunt monsters. Arkon refused to be one.

He cast aside his rage, and concern flooded into its place. Pushing up off Cyrus, he turned to Aymee.

She’d crawled to Randall — who lay on his back in the sand — and knelt over him, sobbing. Arkon moved to her.

Randall’s face was a mask of pain, teeth clenched and bared. Aymee had torn fabric from her skirt and held it to his shoulder. Blood covered her hands and seeped from Randall’s wound.

“I’m so sorry,” Aymee cried.

Arkon frowned and lowered himself beside her.

“I shot him, Arkon,” she said, turning her watery eyes toward him. “I could have killed him. He could still…”

After glancing at the unconscious forms of Joel and Cyrus, Arkon returned his attention to Randall. Though he’d spent countless hours learning everything he could from the Computer back in the Facility, studying human anatomy with particular curiosity, he possessed no practical experience; he’d been lucky to succeed in sealing Macy’s wounds from the razorback, nothing more. He knew only that humans were more fragile than kraken.

“I need to get the bullet out,” she said.

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