Sweet Venom
Page 81

Before I can even make a three sixty, a massive weight knocks me to my stomach, pressing me into the floor. I can barely breathe.
“This is the end, huntress,” the monster says, slobbering against my ear. “Your sisters are no more. And you’re next.”
No! I struggle against the crushing weight, only managing to twist around to my back because the creature allows me to. I stare blankly into the eyes of the manticore. Grace and Greer can’t be dead. They can’t, not when we’ve just met. Not when I finally realized we need to stick together. Not when I haven’t had the chance to apologize.
A wave of super strength washes over me, and I shove against the beast’s stonelike lion chest with all my might. It moves enough for me to roll to the left, out from under its mass, and bounce to my feet. At twice my height and quad-ruple my weight, the monster is too big for me to beat in hand-to-hand combat. The thing is so much stronger than me, my only chance is reaching the wall of weapons. I don’t have to use them often, but this is exactly the worst-case-scenario I’ve trained for. And once that massive spiked tail starts swinging, I’m going to need something that can take out this monster from a distance.
I’m only a few feet from the collection of battle-axes when I feel fur-covered arms wrap around my legs, knocking me to the floor.
“You like the chase,” the manticore says.
Keeping my legs secured, it climbs along my body, closing its massive paws over my wrists when I try to claw myself away. With all my limbs pinned spread-eagle, I can’t move an inch. I buck my torso, trying to dislodge the manticore without success.
This is it, I think. I’m going to die. Just like my sisters. And they will never know I wanted us to be together.
I lay my head down on the rough carpet, strangely calm in the face of my demise. It could be worse, I suppose. I could have been forced to watch them first die.
I feel the creature’s face loom closer. Then it stops.
At first I’m not sure why—I’m easy prey at this point—but then I hear it. Pounding. On my door.
And shouting.
“Gretchen!” Grace screams. “Let us in!”
Greer shouts, “We were both attacked! We don’t know if we’ve been followed!”
They’re alive!
“No!” I shout back. They can’t be here. “Get away! Run!”
The beast slams my face against the floor. “Silence.”
The pounding and shouting and rattling of the door handle continue. With the loft’s ultra-high-tech security system, they’ll never get inside. The best thing they can do—the only thing they can do—is save themselves.
I suck in as much breath as I can and then shout, at full volume, “RUN!”
The pounding stops. I release a relieved sigh. Good, they listened. They’ll get away and they’ll be safe. They’ll live. I relax against the tile, thinking that almost makes this okay.
Then, just as I’m accepting my fate and ready for the creature to finish this, it starts wailing and flailing around. Suddenly free, I jump to my feet, shocked to see Greer wrapped around the monster’s body and Grace holding on for dear life to its tail.
Needing to slow the beast down, I turn and grab a broadsword from the wall. It takes me three running strides to reach the creature, and one thrust to send the battle sword deep into its chest. It barely flinches. After a second, a dark-orange liquid starts trickling out of the wound. That won’t kill it or send it home, but it will sure as hell hurt. And hopefully give one of us a chance to get a bite in.
With its wild movements, I can’t get close enough to finish the job.
“Be careful, Grace!” I shout. “The tip of the tail is deadly.”
“Kinda figured that.” She has both arms and legs clamped around the tail, which is swinging wildly back and forth.
Maybe if I move around to its back, I can get close enough to—
Grace and the tail come swinging my direction. She loses her grip, flies through the air, and tackles me to the ground.
“It’s so strong,” she gasps, pushing off me and to her feet.
As she pulls me up after her, I say, “Tell me about it.”
“Hang on, Greer!” Grace shouts.
“We need to stop the tail,” I say. “It’s too dangerous.”
Grace nods at the wall of weapons. “What about one of those?” she suggests. “Maybe we can pin it down.”
“Great idea.” I grab a pair of spears and hand her one. “I’ll go around the other side. You move from this side. Whoever gets first stab—”
“—goes for it,” she finishes. “Got it.”
As I circle around, I see the manticore trying to snap at Greer with its rows of sharp teeth. When that doesn’t work, it lifts its spiked tail, ready to strike.
“Grace!” I shout, because she’s closer.
But she’s already seen the movement and dives onto the tail, throwing the creature’s aim off just enough to miss Greer. I close the distance to the tail and, as it rebounds to the ground, tossing Grace off to the side on the first bounce, I lift the spear above my head and slam it down as hard as I can into the scaly flesh.
My shoulder feels like it’s on fire.
The beast yowls in pain. Though its tail still wriggles, the creature is pinned into place.
I race around to the front, holding my right shoulder with my left hand, searching for a spot to get close enough to get a bite in. But between the flailing claws and the snapping jaws, there’s no opening that won’t get me a seriously painful injury. Even if I could, I’m not much better than a monster chew toy with my shoulder out of joint.