Page 24 of Hunter of the Tide

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Randall jolted up into a sitting position, disentangling his legs from Rhea’s tentacles and swinging them over the side of the bed. At the corner of his vision, Ikaros leapt off the bed, hurtling toward the dark figure.

Rhea woke with a startled sound as Randall grabbed his pistol from the nightstand. The dark figure snarled and spat a curse; the deep voice could only belong to a male kraken. Gripping his weapon in both hands, Randall spun toward the male.

“Lights on,” he said. The overhead light blazed to life. He squinted against the glare for the second it took his eyes to adjust.

Ikaros yelped as the kraken tore him off and hurled him across the room. Randall recognized the kraken — Volk, the one who’d come on to Rhea that day in the mess hall.

“Ikaros!” Melaina cried from her corner.

“Stay where you are, Melaina!” Rhea yelled. She was already off the bed, standing between the male kraken and her daughter.

Volk bared his teeth. Fresh scratches and small bite wounds oozed blood on his chest and face, almost indiscernible from his crimson skin, and his furious eyes were focused on Randall.

There were a hundred reasons for and against shooting. Randall didn’t have time to consider any of them before the kraken lunged.

Randall fired a single shot. The boom dominated the room, as deafening as thunder in the small space, and then the pistol was knocked out of his hold by Volk’s backhand swing. The male kraken’s other arm followed, hitting Randall in the chest.

It felt like he’d been charged by a full-grown krull. The breath burst from his lungs as he was flung backward. His legs hit the side of the bed, and he fell atop it on his back.

The lights inside the room flashed, accompanied by a blaring alarm.

“Firearms discharged in Cabins Hall C, room six,” the Computer announced. “All active security personnel be advised, firearms discharged.”

Gulping for air, Randall twisted, looking for the pistol, but Volk was on him too quickly. The kraken slashed downward with his claws, and Randall shifted his torso, narrowly avoiding the blow. Volk’s eyes were like twin infernos. Blood trickled from a bullet hole on his abdomen.

Volk put his hands around Randall’s throat and leaned his immense weight forward. The bed groaned, as though making up for Randall’s current inability to make a sound. His throat would be crushed under the strength of those hands. As his vision blurred, Randall desperately jabbed a fist at the wound on Volk’s abdomen.

The kraken grunted and pushed Randall further down. The bedding covered Randall’s ears, muffling the sound of the alarms. After two more blows, Randall pressed his fingers into the hole, raking at the slick, torn flesh inside with his nails.

Roaring in pain, Volk lifted Randall off the bed and hurled him aside.

Randall bounced off the other side and hit the floor hard, face-first.

“Randall!” Melaina called.

Head spinning, he pushed himself up off the floor and looked to the child. She remained huddled in the corner on her little pallet, eyes wide and fearful, with Ikaros clutched in her arms. He braced an arm on the mattress and drew himself onto his knees.

The bed creaked as Volk moved over it, approaching Randall. “No human will have our fem—”

His words were choked off as Rhea released a shriek so full of fury that Randall’s blood ran cold and launched herself at Volk.

Her momentum slammed the male kraken into the wall. In an instant, they became a writhing mass of tentacles and slashing claws, spraying blood onto the bedding beneath them.

There was no doubt that Volk was larger and stronger than Rhea, but her ferocity seemed to have tipped the balance in her favor — at least for now.

Sucking in a ragged breath that made his ribs hurt more, Randall turned his attention to the floor, scanning for the pistol. If he jumped into the fray, he’d be torn to shreds. He could only help her if he was armed. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat almost as loud as the gunshot had been and yet barely audible over the alarms.

How long before Volk overpowered her?

Movement from his peripheral vision caused Randall to jerk to the side, ready to mount whatever defense he was able.

Melaina stared up at him with large eyes. She lifted her hands, the pistol resting on her flattened palms.

Randall’s sigh of relief was almost as painful as his deep inhalation a moment before. He accepted the pistol from her and, somehow, managed a smile. “Go back to Ikaros, okay?”

She nodded and scurried off.

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