Page 94 of Shadow Caster
“I’ll take Gimble,” Mal said. “I can carry him.”
The nightblood looked flushed and filled with energy, not surprising since he’d supped on feyblood. The stuff was potent shit.
Harmon passed Gimble to Mal.
Hyde nodded. “Move carefully, keep silent. We got this.”
“And if they wake up?” Thomas asked.
Hyde’s nostrils flared slightly. “Then we fight.”
But there were only a handful of us left and one of us was injured. If it came down to fighting a nest of hounds we were fucked, and everyone knew it.
Deathly quiet it was, then.
Hyde led the way down the tunnel. It widened and then the hum and rumble grew louder. The green glow was dimmer here, but there was enough light to see the hulking sleeping shadows of several hounds lying on the ground. Nooks and ledges dotted the walls and hounds were tucked into those or sprawled across them. So many hounds. Too many hounds.
We were outnumbered two to one.
Our shallow breaths mingled with the rumble of the sleeping hounds. Just a little way to go. The exit loomed ahead, dark and inviting. Don’t look back, just keep moving. How could Hyde be so nimble with his bionic leg.
He moved fluidly, he moved silently. I mimicked him, placing my feet where he placed his, blocking out the fact we were surrounded by monsters.
And then we were through the arch. Hyde pulled me aside and pressed me to the wall. His eyes gleamed in the darkness and his mouth parted on a soft exhale. I wanted to swallow it, to press myself to him and revel in the heat of his body and the beat of his heart.
He blinked slowly and a silent communication passed between us, one that didn’t need words. One that said, we made it, we’re okay. One that said, later.
The others began to join us in the tunnel beyond the nest and Hyde released me and ushered everyone forward.
I counted heads as they came through. Almost there.
A sharp male yelp cut through the hum of sleep.
My body froze, tensing up in horror. Hyde’s gaze flew to mine and then back to the arch leading to the nest.
Silence.
Actual silence. No rumble. No sleep.
“Oh fuck!” Hyde rushed forward, drawing his sword and pushing the cadets aside.
I was right behind him.
Someone screamed and then all hell broke loose.
Thirty-One
No time to think, no time to plan. My body was in auto-fight. My dagger slicing, cutting, maiming. I defended and attacked, rolled and ducked. The world was a blur of instinct and the potent scent of blood. Cadet blood. My blood. But wounds would heal.
Keep going. Keep fighting.
I caught a glimpse of Hyde putting himself between Gimble and a hound by shoving the feyblood back toward the exit.
Thomas used one arm to support the feyblood and the other to beat back the hound that was intent on attacking them. I cut a swathe through the fray and buried my dagger in the hound’s head.
Thomas’s gaze met mine.
“Get him out.” I turned just in time to fend off a fresh hound.
