Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
When his breath caught, I turned to him. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it.”
“Look at them,” he directed, motioning toward the back seat, and I saw the kids—it was how I thought of them because they were all younger than me—sound asleep. Father Dennis was asleep as well, which frightened me more than anything.
“What the hell?” I asked, shivering.
“Is it me, or have our lives gotten weirder than usual?” He grinned.
I couldn’t help smiling back. “How are you not losing your mind right now?”
“Because I’m a fuckin’ rock under pressure. You know that,” he grumbled. “So remember it for the next time, and never deviate from the plan of staying right behind me, especially when we’re running away from God knows what!” he finished loudly, but I understood the reason. He really loved me.
“I plan to get married,” I said with conviction. “I want that more than anything.”
“Good. Keep that in mind,” he rasped, hands tightening on the wheel, making sure the car remained absolutely straight, as there were deer running alongside it.
“What is this?” I asked, hearing how frightened I sounded. At the same time, I realized it was hard to see where we were going, as we were driving with what appeared to be a stampede.
“This can’t—there aren’t this many deer in Osprey,” he choked out.
“I love that you’re trying to be logical right now, even when you can’t see where you’re going at all.” The deer surrounded us, and they were close. I could have rolled down my window and touched one.
“I hope as long as they’re running forward, that means we’re okay. I just need to keep pace because like you said a minute ago, something’s wrong. We passed Corvus, and we’re almost at the Chautauqua River bridge.”
“Which makes no sense.”
“I don’t want us to end up in—fuck!”
He hit the brakes hard, but despite sliding on the wet road, I wasn’t caught by my seat belt and neither was he. The kids and Father Dennis didn’t hit the partition and bounce off. It was as though all the motion was outside the car and none within.
“Oh thank God,” Lorne said hoarsely, glancing around. “I was afraid I was going to kill the stag.”
“What stag?”
He tipped his head, and when I looked forward, I saw an alabaster stag standing in the middle of the road. It was beautiful, bathed in moonlight, almost shimmering. And I knew there were albino deer in the world, but I’d never heard of any being in Osprey, and more importantly, none of that accounted for the size.
“Are there elk here?” Lorne asked.
“That’s not an elk. Look at it.” Because we were definitely looking at a deer. Or something pretending to be a deer and not quite pulling it off, or even a deer from another realm. “What is happening?”
“I don’t—those antlers are impossible.”
He was right. The antlers were enormous and intricate, and it would be physically impossible for an animal, even one the size of an elk, to hold up something easily twelve feet wide and five feet high. And antlers were supposed to be useful. These were not. They were beautiful, made of what appeared to be frosted ice, with swirls and curls and circles that could not occur in nature. It looked like they belonged in a Studio Ghibli film.
“Is there such a thing as a fae deer?” he asked me.
“I’m sure there is, but I’ve never seen one.”
He gestured at the stag. “I suspect you have now.”
I saw them then, two creatures emerging from the darkness farther up the road, with reptilian bodies, as Lorne had said. Their heads were large, with wide jaws that didn’t look like they could close because of all the razor-sharp fangs. Long, misshapen arms that nearly touched the ground ended in talons instead of hands. The feet had talons too, and they were dripping mud or something viscous onto the road as they approached. The deer, somehow unaware of them, would be eviscerated.
“No,” I rasped, and Lorne grabbed his rifle and passed me his Glock.
“Climb over here, stay in the car, use that, and if those things get through me, you drive away as fast as you can.”
“You are out of your mind if you think I would ever leave you,” I stated, scrambling out of the car before he could say another word, closing the door gently, afraid to frighten the stag in case it turned and ran from us and toward the creatures.
Lorne exited the same way, quietly, and we crept around the sides of the vehicle, coming together at the front.
“Aim for the middle when those things are close enough,” Lorne instructed.
“Yes,” I answered, seeing him raise the rifle to his shoulder.
“Hopefully the stag will run, but if it doesn’t, we’re not letting them hurt him either.”
“No, we’re not,” I agreed.
With a howl, the creatures flew forward, toward the stag, and Lorne fired, which didn’t do a thing.