I forced my legs to move past the foot and tattered pieces of cloth to where the nauseating odor of death grew more rancid. The road leading up to the back of the house glistened with what I only wished had been rain. The stench of rot and the hungry bugs crawling over the festering mess told me otherwise. A spinal column with protruding capillaries lay on the grass, the ends shriveling like drying leaves on a long-stemmed rose. Blood soaked the path, pooling at the bottom, where a brunette with matted hair lapped voraciously with her tongue, despite the flies swarming around her. She paused and sniffed, her stomach growling. She’d caught my scent.
I shifted before her head could snap up.
“Yup. Misha’s got the right gal.”
I slammed the car door shut and locked it. It took me a few tries, as my hands shook like I gripped a jackhammer. It was asinine to think the lock to our SUV would keep the bloodlust vamp slurping rancid blood from breaking in. But when your own blood turned to ice, and you were eight shades paler than you were when you woke up in the morning, you started wishing for crazy shit.
“Dude, are you sure?”
“I saw teeth, a spinal cord, and someone’s shoe with a foot still attached.”
Taran stomped on the accelerator.
The rows of thick firs spun into a blurring mess as we sped away. I scanned the trees, searching for any blood-guzzling monsters huddled in the branches, or a brunette munching on a kneecap giving chase behind us. Taran’s Mach 1 speed made me dizzy, and so did the lingering scent of decomposing flesh. But no way in hell would I ask her to pull over. If I hurled it would be in the car and far—very far away—from any creatures capable of feasting on human flesh like rotisserie chicken.
“Oh, my God. We have to do something.”
Taran glared at Emme while taking a particularly sharp curve. The wheels screeched and we coasted a few feet on two wheels. “What we have to do is get the hell out of Tahoe. We’re packing our shit and leaving tonight before we’re next!”
Emme shook her head feverishly. “No. We can’t. We have to help Misha.”
Taran’s screams at Emme blasted my eardrums. “Didn’t you hear Celia? Teeth and a goddamn spinal cord!”
She swerved around another corner. I gripped the “oh, shit” bar, cursing myself for not letting Shayna drive. Although Shayna’s speed would have been faster, and more hair-raising as a result, her reflexes were lightning quick and she always managed to stay in control. Taran’s driving currently mirrored her volatile personality.
Taran barely avoided crashing into a guardrail as she jetted down a steep incline. “We’ll call Bren and Danny from the road. They need to haul ass, too. Celia, you snag our birth certificates and passports—they’re in the safe. Shayna, grab our laptops and cell phones—don’t forget the chargers. I’ll write our resignations and call our managers. We’ll put the house on the market online.” She huffed. “Though who the hell is going to want to live in Tahoe now?”
Taran tore into our neighborhood minutes later. She screeched to a halt in front of our house and bolted inside without glancing back. The rest of us ambled out slowly, with Emme on the verge of tears. I didn’t know what to say. My tigress paced restlessly. It was wrong to die like that. Wrong, and horrid, and terribly heartbreaking. Those poor women and the UPS guy hadn’t stood a chance. They could have been armed and it wouldn’t have mattered. Guns would do jack against preternatural creatures whose thirst would never be quenched.
Until their deaths.
“He probably had a family.”
Shayna’s head whipped in my direction. “What?”
My fists clenched against my sides. “The guy. Missing the foot. He probably had a family.”
Tears glistened in Emme’s eyes. “I’m sure he did. And I’m sure those women did, too.”
Taran stormed out of the house with an armful of clothes, tripping over the long sleeve of one of her sweaters. She toppled onto her knees, dropping her things when she attempted to break her fall. “Son of a bitch.” She caught us idling by the car as she struggled to round up her belongings. “What the hell are you doing? We have to get out of here now!”
I shook my head. “I’m not going, Taran. I’m staying to fight with Misha.”
Taran threw the clothes she’d bunched onto the lawn. “You are out of your goddamn mind if you think we’re leaving you by yourself!”
Emme placed her small hands over my fist. “I’m staying with her, Taran.”
Taran’s blue eyes widened. “No. No freaking way. Goddamn it, what is wrong with you?”