Chapters (46)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
“Some of it,” she said, rubbing her backside. She grimaced and staggered over to the cat, placing her hand in front of its muzzle to check its breathing. “He’s still alive.”
“Not for long.” Tristam wrenched the knife out of the cat’s shoulder and pried its mouth open.
“No!” Kyra’s eyes were wide, horrified.
“Give me one good reason not to,” he snarled. First Jack, then Martin, and the countless in the fire. He would kill one of these creatures before he died.
“Please…”
He looked at her incredulously and stepped toward her, only to grab a tree for support as a wave of nausea hit him. She reached out to steady him, but shrank back when he glared at her. Was he that frightening to behold?
He doubled over, his strength draining as his anger lost momentum. “Who are you?” he asked.
Kyra looked frantically between him and the prone demon cat. She started to talk, but then she stopped, her eyes widened, and she cast around the forest.
“They’re coming after us,” she said. “We need to go.”
Thirty-seven
T H I R T Y - S E V E N
The moment they started running, Kyra knew they were in trouble. Tristam’s ordeal had taken its toll. His balance was off, and strain showed on his face with each step. Still, they had no choice but to run.
They needed a river to wash out their scent and hide their tracks. Even then, Kyra wasn’t sure the Makvani wouldn’t be able to pick their scent out of the air. Running alongside Tristam, her own recently trained nose caught the fresh blood of his wounds, and more disturbingly, another layer of fever and sickness underneath. More than once, she saw him stumble.
“We’re almost there,” she said, squeezing the words out between gasps. “There’s a river up ahead.”
Already, the ground was sloping down. They slowed, stepping carefully over roots and rocks toward the rushing water. She broke through the trees on the riverbank and stopped at the edge. It was a small river and looked to be waist deep. Icy water swirled around her ankles as she waded in.
“How are you doing?” A rock tipped as she put her weight on it and she barely avoided twisting her ankle.
“I’ll live,” said Tristam through gritted teeth.
They followed the river until Kyra had no feeling left in her submerged feet.
“Do you think we can cross?” she asked.