Page 143 of Cherish

I barely even register my friends’ near-desperate screams from shore now. I’m too focused on this beast. Timing is going to be everything as I get its face really, really, really close to mine.

Once I can see the milky whites of its eyes, I roll left at the last minute, just outside the range of its gaping maw that snaps closed with a sickening crunch. As its thrust carries it past me, I kick both my legs straight at its cheek and use every ounce of strength I’ve got—and its own momentum—to push myself away from it. It doesn’t daunt the giant fish at all, but itdoesmanage to propel my torso about three feet straight out of the water.

Which is all I need.

I reach inside and grab my platinum string, shifting as I continue to fly through the air. The second I’ve got my wings, I shoot straight up—just in time to avoid the angler’s next attempt to catch me in its mouth.

But it’s close, really close, and I pull my legs up as tight to my chest as I can manage, out of the reach of those wicked teeth. One still manages to get me, scraping all the way down the outside of my leg from thigh to ankle, but I don’t bother to check. Instead, I race for shore with the fish leaping along behind me, over and over and over again.

Until it stops.

I’m about to take my first steadying breath since I first realized I was fish food when it occurs to me that my friends are all still screaming like someone’s life depends on it. But if not mine, then—

My stomach leaps into my throat as I bank hard right and catch a glimpse of my mate powering through the water—directly in the range of the giant, pissed-off fish. And while Hudson’s fast, I’m not sure he’s paranormal-fish fast.

I don’t even hesitate. I tuck my wings against my body and dive straight for him. I’m over him in mere seconds, and I reach down, grab onto the back of his shirt at the same time I yank my wings wide enough to catch some lift again—and I use all of my speeding momentum and every ounce of desperate, panicked, adrenaline-fueled stress I have to pick him up just enough to get him out of the water. And then I fly straight for shore with Hudson below me like a backward, freestyle-swimming Superman.

But even as a gargoyle with a bunch of adrenaline coursing through her system, I’m not strong enough to carry him very far for very long, and he slips out of my grip just as we get to shore and goes careening feet-first into a shocked and cursing Flint.

The two of them go flying ass-over-teakettle across the sand while I crash-land on the first available open space.

As I roll onto my back, blood gushing from the cut on my leg, Polo leans over me and says, “I told you not to get swallowed up.”

77

Parthenon Crashers

“I’ll just stay here a bit,” I say to no one in particular, my lungs burning almost as much as the scrape down my leg. I wiggle my stone butt a little deeper into the beach, the cool sand taking the sting out of the wound.

Hudson fades to me in a blink, sliding on his knees to my side. He takes one glance at the blood pooling in the sand around my leg and looks like he might pass out.

“I will never let you live it down if you faint from the sight of a little blood,” I croak out between breaths.

“A vampire who faints at the sight of blood.” Jaxon snickers—but then something causes him to whips his head to Flint, all semblance of humor gone.

“Hey,” Flint mutters to himself, lifting the edge of his T-shirt. “I think your belt cut me.”

I roll my head to the side just enough to catch sight of a huge slash across Flint’s abs—and Jaxon fading tohisside, looking a little faint himself.

“Vampires have such weak constitutions.” Eden rolls her eyes at Heather and Macy, and they all have a good laugh at the Vega brothers’ expense.

Hudson tugs my hand in his trembling one, and my gaze softens on his as I whisper, “I’m going to be fine, babe. Promise.”

He nods, blinking back the gathering moisture in his eyes, but he must not trust himself to speak quite yet. He just gives another quick nod and squeezes my hand.

Normally, I’d lay here for a minute, letting the earth magic slowly heal my stone body—my powers returned the second I hit the sand, so I guess we’re officially out of the Shadow Realm—but I can tell Hudson is holding on to his shit by a thread. I would never want my mate to suffer a moment of anxiety over my health, nor I his, so I roll over onto my injured side to cup his face with my hand, rub my fingers along his strong jaw.

“I got this,” I say. And to prove it, I draw energy from the earth into my wound, now packed with sand. It only takes a moment, and then I toss him a cheeky grin. “But you can give me a hand up.”

He leaps to his feet and tugs me up with him in a single bound, and I shift back into my human form.

“See?” I ask, then gesture to the giant tear in my jeans and the wound-free skin below. “All better.”

It takes a second, but then his eyes are widening and he’s pulling me into his arms for a hug that feels as calming as watching a summer storm. “Thank fook,” he breathes, dropping kisses all over my curls before sliding a hand under my chin and brushing his warm lips against mine over and over.

And I get it—I do. If I’d just witnessed Hudson get almost eaten by a monster fish and then watched his blood pool around him, I’d want to assure myself he was really okay, that everything was going to be okay. Which is why I lean into his warmth, give him whatever he needs to calm his racing heart.

Someone coughs off to the side, and we slowly, so very slowly, turn our heads to glare at Jaxon, who is apparently over his Flint scare and ready to get this show on the road.

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