Page 8 of Monster

He looked around them. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs—and Deacon had had to steal the ones on his after his shift had destroyed his uniform. Drake had no other choice.He peeled the shirt off and tore it into thick bandages.It wasn’t sterile, but it could help slow the blood.

Drake fashioned a bandage with a clean patch and used the longer pieces to tie it around Deacon’s waist. Blood blossomed on it within seconds, and he wondered if it was even having an impact.

He needs to get home.

Once the wound was covered, Drake sat back, watching the flicker of light coming through the trees.

All they could do was hunker down and pray to the shifter gods.

Seconds ticked by, his body tense and ready to fight. His dragon roared within, desperate to escape the prison of his human self. One shift, and he could take down the helicopter and all within it.

Eventually, the Chinook wandered off, its spotlight with it. Quiet and darkness enveloped them. Drake watched the slow rise and fall of Deacon’s chest… and then turned to see that Jaeger had finally drifted off, too.

The beast snored in his cage.

Drake stared at the cage, his chaotic thoughts finally having a moment to unkink, twisting themselves open to remind him of what he sensed in the back of the truck.

His stare fell on the sleeping monster.

No.

Please dear gods, no.

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