Page 11 of Forgotten Monsters
“Nae. I need ye safe.In the cabin.” His pointed glare offers no place for discussion.
I open my mouth to tell him off, but Jules grabs a fist of my jacket.
“He’s hiding something. We should remain involved, in case he plans to double-cross us,” I whisper in her ear.
She pulls me along. “We will. But this is a perfect opportunity to check what’s under his mattress.”
I follow her down the stairs.
She yanks the curtains leading to Barron’s bed aside and peels the cushions off one by one. A metal latch leads to an inside compartment, and she grins. “Bingo.”
The boat hits a huge rock, and I brace myself on the carpeted fiberglass to keep from toppling over. “How are you so calm? At least I can fly away from this raft if we sink.”
Jules squints at the ceiling and lets go of the latch. “It wasn’t a rock. We didn’t hit anything. We weregrabbed.”
Adrenaline rushes in my veins. “How can you tell?” A shadow crawls over the kitchen porthole, and I jerk away from the sink.
Jules’ eyes widen. “They might not have seen that coming. We need to warn them.”
A dark form obscures the dim light coming in from the tiny round window once more. Flames swirl on Jules’ arms as lightning does on mine, and we erupt onto the bridge, arms stretched on both sides, ready to fry some demons.
Fog clogs the air as monsters curl around the railings. They have human faces and arms, but snake tails below the waist. They stand at our approach, their wide tails supporting their weight.
Black and gold scales luster in the morning light as one of the snake-men slithers toward Jules and me.
Lightning bolts crackle in my hands, and I hurl them at the demon. His skin emits a lowtskon impact. The scent of burnt flesh pervades the air, but other than that, the snake-man seems unbothered by the high-voltage. He raises a three-pronged spear over his shoulder.
I bolt into the air, trying to draw his fire. The sudden motion spooks him, my sister’s existence all but forgotten.
That’s right. Look at me, snakey.
I dash out of the way of his pointy trident.
Jules launches a fireball at his unprotected chest, but the sizzle of fire doesn’t slow him down. He summons an identical weapon out of thin air, and his reptilian nostrils flare. His lips move as though he’s talking to her, but the murky fog muffles their conversation. Jules throws another fireball at him, but the snake-man holds his ground, his mouth stretched into a serpentine smile. With a snicker, he tastes the air with his bicuspid tongue.
Like Barron predicted, our magic is useless against them, and a hard ball forms in my throat.
Next to the small cockpit, Mallory sits in a lotus position, a series of demonic runes perfectly drawn on the white fiberglass in black chalk. Purple flames light her face.
Where the fuck is Barron?
Just as I’m about to write him off as dead, the Scot barrels into the fight from the other side of the bow, and the sight of him scatters chills up and down my neck.
Black tendrils stretch in a long, wispy cloak behind him—a shroud of night. The tattoos on his arms writhe along his forearms, forming black gloves, the solid ink running up to his elbows. Dark veins bury into his biceps like long, ethereal claws.
Two daggers absorb the light in his tar-licked hands, slender blades made of darkness that shine with a peculiar purple flare. My breath stutters at the sight. A pulse of ancient magic emanates from him and rattles the very fabric of my cells, as though his shadowy hands could reshape the world itself.
Barron slices heads and tails off, silent and quick in his attacks. The dark-purple blades act as extensions of his hands, his grip perfectly balanced and his precise movements deadly as can be. Despite his obvious strength and skills, the odds aren’t good. The endless throng of snakes doesn’t relent, and for every one of them that dies or falls off the ship, two more waggle their tails up the sides of the boat. The thick fog prevents them from flinging their tridents from afar with accuracy, but even blind throws can hit flesh.
With feline grace, the Scot pirouettes through the air to avoid a zooming trident. The discarded weapon scrapes along the fiberglass, and I fly low to snatch it from the deck.
If magic won’t kill these creatures, then I hope their own weapons will. I try to skewer the snake-man closest to Jules, but he takes advantage of my proximity to grab my ankle. Gold nails bury into my calf, but I blast us up into the air. When he draws blood, I soldier through and ram the tip of the trident through his arm.
He doesn’t let go, and I pour all my magic out to fly higher. In his slitted pupils, I see fear.Snakeyis afraid of heights.
Just when I’m about to run out of steam, he releases me and lands into the dark water below with a loud splash. I glance back to the ship as Barron slices through half a dozen monsters like a ninja.
Jules’ chest is heaving.
