Ethan let go of my hand and slid off of the love seat onto the floor, making room for me. When I lay down, I noticed the spot where he’d been sitting was deliciously warm. I snuggled into that warmth, painfully aware that Ethan was sitting close enough to touch. His hair was so shiny it seemed to glow in the torchlight. I found myself fascinated, mesmerized by the play of light as sleep crept up and seized me.

chapter seven

So far, each time I’d woken up in Avalon, something majorly sucked. This time was no exception.

A piercing scream brought me from dead asleep to wide-awake panic in one second flat. A couple more voices joined in, the screams bouncing and pinging off the stone walls and ceiling. Some of the torches had gone out, leaving parts of the cave hidden by shadows.

Ethan sprang to his feet in front of me, and to my shock, a long, thin knife appeared in his hand. “To me!” he bellowed, loud enough to be heard over the sounds of terror, and soon a handful of the students came charging out from between the stalagmites toward him.

Two human boys were supporting a third, whose shirt was shredded, his chest bleeding from what looked like claw marks. Behind them, Kimber and the Fae boy she’d been so chummy with were backing toward us instead of running, each menacing the surrounding darkness with knives that looked just like Ethan’s.

I clutched the afghan tightly under my chin, totally mystified as to what was going on, knowing only that it was bad. Really bad, judging by the wide-eyed terror on the human boys’ faces.

“Don’t move!” Ethan ordered me without turning to look, and he stepped forward to put himself between us humans and … whatever was out there.

Realizing the wounded boy was about to collapse, I sprang off the love seat. His friends gave me appreciative nods as they laid him down. The wounds on his chest looked nasty, and there was enough blood to make me feel light-headed. I had the sensation that I’d stepped into the middle of a nightmare. This just couldn’t be happening. My life was aggravating in the extreme, but it wasn’t dangerous. There had to be some perfectly reasonable explanation for the screaming, the bleeding, and the weapons.

The sense of unreality kept me from being as scared as I should have been. One of the boys tore his sweatshirt off over his head and stuck it over the wound, applying pressure. The wounded boy groaned in pain.

To my shock, the other boy had drawn a gun, though he pointed it at the floor as his eyes darted back and forth, searching for a target.

What kind of students were these?

I stopped worrying about the gun when an awful shrieking sound, like fingernails on a blackboard, only ten times worse, split the air. With all the echoes, I couldn’t tell where it came from, but the three Fae seemed to have a good idea. They stood side by side, knives at the ready as they faced one particularly dark pool of shadow.

Then the shadow moved, stepping into the glow of the torchlight. I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming, because whatever it was, it wasn’t human. Not even close.

It looked like it was made of sticks and straw, with a vaguely humanoid shape and huge black eyes. The sticks that made up its fingers were sharpened at the end, and several of them glistened with blood. My stomach almost revolted when I noticed another sharpened appendage, this one jutting out from between the creature’s legs. There was blood on that, too.

It opened its mouth, and another of those awful screeches made me cover my ears. Two more creatures just like it emerged from behind a couple of stalagmites.

The Fae put some space between one another, each facing off against one of the creatures. The human boy was trying to line up a shot, but the Fae were in the way.

“Will bullets hurt them?” he asked suddenly.

Ethan, slowly and carefully advancing on the creature he’d targeted, shouted a quick no over his shoulder.

“Shit!” the human boy said, and I couldn’t help agreeing with him. He put the gun away, then chivalrously pushed me behind him.

The creatures shrieked again, then all three of them sprang in unison. I swallowed a scream of my own.

“Jason!” a voice behind me cried in terror.

The gunman—Jason, apparently—whirled around, and I did the same. Another one of the creatures had snuck up behind us and was perched on the back of the couch. Those eyes were as expressionless as ink blots, and yet I still felt its gaze almost like a physical touch as it stared at me. The boy on the couch froze in terror, and if the creature had wanted him, he’d have been history. But it had eyes only for me. It shrieked again, then leapt off the back of the couch toward me.

Instinctively, I ducked and dove forward, sending myself under the creature’s leap. Unfortunately, Jason was right behind me, so when I ducked, the creature slammed into his chest. He went down hard.

I did scream then. I couldn’t help it.

Jason’s friend surged forward and grabbed the creature, pulling it away. Already, a set of claw marks marred Jason’s face. The creature whirled on Jason’s friend, twiggy arm striking out in a backhanded blow that sent him flying. The creature crowed in triumph and seemed to grow bigger as I watched. Fixing its gaze on Jason, it started forward. I scrambled to my feet, looking around frantically for something I could do to help.

What I did next was pure instinct. I was unarmed, and even if I’d had one of those Fae knives, I’d be more likely to hurt myself than hurt these creatures. But I couldn’t just stand there uselessly, hoping some big strapping man would come save the day, not when the creature was advancing on the obviously wounded Jason.