Page 93 of Break Out the Girl

Higher up, I see birds sheltering in the tree branches. And the hot heat signature of camera batteries.

What I need is a localized pocket of warmth generated by a living, breathing human body trapped beneath the clay. I glide silently, as fast as I can without toppling my…guest. James is a dead weight on my back, his breath coming in gasps against my neck, but he retains his holds.

We cover ground at a punishing pace.

I scan a shallow ravine—nothing but the cold blue of stagnant water.

I sweep past a hollow oak—only the small, clustered orange glow of a sleeping fox.

Where is she?

Screams in a distant pasture send violent vibrations into my brain.

I cannot pause. Cannot stop.

How much air does she have?

Is it already too late?

I pivot, driving deeper into a dense, overgrown patch of brambles. My company will be torn to shreds, but he’ll live beneath the scratches, whereas Aurora’s lost lamb will not.

Suddenly, a tiny, localized pulse of amber heat blooms in my vision. It is faint, heavily insulated by layers of freezing earth and suffocated by the cold downpour, but it is undeniably there.

A small, fading candle of body heat trapped beneath the roots.

It has to be.

I’ve found her.

33: TALIESIN

A silver wind blows alongside me as I run.

Rory.

Her shifted form is beyond any comprehension, but no surprise there. We’re talking about Aurora Drakeward after all.

No way she’d have a common animal as her innate beast like me, nor something ugly and fucked up like François.

No.

She’s all the myths and legends come to life.

Gods. The way she shifts and whirls is so similar to the way she dances.

Is that a coincidence, or are our personalities rooted in the innate DNA we’ve all carried along with us?

Fuck knows.

Philosophy really isn’t my thing, but when wonders happen right before your eyes? I guess even someone as mundane as me gets to questioning shit.

As if London can read my mind, his eyes track her ethereal form as it whistles by again. “Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do or die…” he chants over and over.

Exactly.

My paws drive into the earth, as I keep every sense I have fully alert. Scents are everywhere, ranging from earthy slugs and fungi to the sweaty sulfur stink of terror.

Within each whiff of that panicked smell, I look for traces of Sky, but find none.