Ilona Andrews - Bayou Moon

A huge paw sank into the muck next to him. Talons bit into his side and flipped him on his back. He kept the bombs clutched in his fist. The tiny bumps on the surface of the spheres sank in under the pressure of his fingers. The bombs would explode a second after he let them go.

The beast lowered his head. Drool dripped on Spider’s chest. He looked at the grotesque face. Red eyes stared back at him, deliberate, smart. They caught him. Mesmerized him. He sank deep into their depths, stunned by their ferocity and intellect and pain. One chance. He had one chance, or it would end right here.

The massive jaws opened wide, wider, cavernous.

“Hello, Vernard,” he whispered.

A low groan broke free of the beast’s mouth. It stretched into an ululating cry and suddenly shifted into a long coherent word.

“Genevieve …”

“I fused her,” Spider said. “Took her from your family.”

The thing that used to be Vernard Dubois snarled in rage.

“I’ll take Cerise, too,” Spider promised. “I will kill you, and then I’ll find her and take her, too.”

The jaws unhinged and plunged down to bite. Spider tossed the bombs into the black throat and shoved himself to the side.

Vernard’s head exploded. A wet mist of blood and brains showered Spider’s stomach. Thick slabs of meat pelted him. The stump of the body toppled and crashed forward. Spider threw his hands out to shield himself, but the weight was too great, and it plunged on top of him. A wide gap glared where the beast’s neck used to be, and as it fell, blood gushed from it in a hot sticky flood, drenching Spider’s face.

With sick dread, Spider waited for the body of the beast to glue itself together.

A moment passed.

Another.

Spider strained, gripping the ground. The corpse pinned him down, and in the wide gash he saw the black, moist sack of the heart still pumping. He reached into the ruined body, ripped out the bulging organ, and bit into its flesh. The blood burned his mouth. He tore the still living flesh with his teeth and forced it down.

If there was any truth in Vernard’s journal, the beast’s heart would restore him. He choked down another bite and let it go before nausea made him lose it.

Spider clenched his muscles, thrusting himself into agony. His torso slid from under the beast. He dragged his hand across his mouth, wiping away the blood, unable to believe he lived. He breathed in deeply and savored the damp Mire air he so used to hate. It tasted sweet.

Spider rolled to his stomach. A mud field stretched before him, seemingly endless. An eternity away the southwestern path gaped. A mile and a half.

Spider clutched at the ground with dirty fingers and pulled himself six inches forward. Pain lashed him. He caught his breath and pulled again.

WILLIAM opened his eyes. Wooden boards ran above his head. He blinked. Pain swept through him in a torrent, ripping out a groan. Things swam out of focus.

A door banged. A dim shape thrust into the room. William struck at it, but his arm fell limp.

“It’s me, it’s me,” Gaston’s voice said. A hand restrained him.

William snarled.

“Come on now, friend,” Zeke’s voice said. “You’re safe, it’s all good. All good. Gaston, slide him back into bed, before he chokes himself. There we go.”

“Where is she?”

“Safe,” Gaston said. “She’s safe.”

Alive. Cerise was alive.

A cup bumped against his lips.

“Drink,” Zeke said. “You’ll feel all better after you drink.”

The liquid spilled into his mouth. It tasted vile, bitter, and metallic. William tried to spit it out but somehow it worked its way down his throat into his stomach. Warmth spread through him, dulling the pain.

Slowly his vision returned to normal, and he stared at Gaston kneeling by the bed, his face two inches away.

There was something on his neck. William reached over. His fingers grazed leather.

“Hang on.” Zeke reached over and unhooked something, lifting a large dog collar free. “Sorry about that. You went wolf on us a couple of times. Had to keep you put.”

William shook his head. His voice came out hoarse. “Where is Cerise?”

“She had to go home,” Gaston said.

“Where am I?” He tried to rise, but they clamped him down.

“Settle down,” Zeke told him. “I will explain everything to you, but you’ve got to lie still or we’ll tie your ass to the bed. You got me?”

Fine. William lay back down.

“They brought you to me four days ago. They had you in some sort of casket, and you were barely breathing. Apparently you were hurt bad, and whatever the casket did kept you alive, but you weren’t getting any better. Cerise said that we had to get you to the Weird because the Mire didn’t have enough magic, and if we left you where you were, you’d die.”

They put him in the Box. He’d died. He remembered dying and the mist and then nothing.

“We didn’t have a lot of time,” Zeke said. “You were hanging by a thread. The Hand’s freaks were still after the Mars, and we had to move fast. There is only one way out of the Mire into the Weird and that’s through Louisiana. We had to grease the Border Guard’s hand. It took everything I had and all the money the Mars had. Wiped us out clean, but we got you and the kid out, because she didn’t trust me alone. I better get reimbursed for this. We’re in Louisiana now, in the country, in one of the Mirror’s safe houses.”

Zeke reached to the table and lifted a square of lined paper. “Here. She wrote you a note.”

William clenched the paper in his hand, focusing on it with all of his will. The tiny scribbles solidified into words.

I love you so much. I’m so sorry, I can’t go with you. There are only fifteen adults left, and most of them are hurt. The Hand’s freaks ran after you killed Spider, but they keep coming back. We’ve been attacked twice, and we don’t have enough money to get everyone over the border. I have to stay behind to protect the kids and Lark.

Live, William. Get better, get strong again, and find me if you can. Even if I never see you again, I regret nothing. I only wish we had more time.

He read it again. And again. It didn’t say anything different.

He would find her again. But before he did that, he had to make her safe from everyone. Her and her whole damn family. Until he saved the lot of them, they would never let her go.

The kid raised a cup and held it up to his mouth. “You need more of this tea.”

“No.” Every word was an effort. “The Box?”

“He broke it,” Zeke said in disgust. “Shattered the thing to pieces. When I woke up, it was burning.”

“Cerise told me to.” Gaston bumped the cup against William’s lips. “She said for you to drink this. It’s good for you. It will make you better.”

“No.”

Gaston’s face radiated grim determination. “You don’t have to like it. You have to drink it. Don’t make me hold your nose closed.”

William cursed and drank. There was only one man who could help him now. He had to get stronger so he could travel, and if it meant he had to chug the vomit-inducing tea, he would do it.

By evening, he managed to keep down some broth. The next day he sat up, two days later he walked, and two days after that, he and Gaston crossed the border between Louisiana and Adrianglia, heading north.

“WOW.” Gaston gaped at the two-story mansion, situated on a perfectly manicured lawn. “Wow. Is that all one house?”

William grumbled. Gaston had never set foot out of the swamp. The entire way through the Weird, the kid would stare at things in amazement, get embarrassed, and then try to be a smart-ass about it. It was getting old.