Page 73 of Of Flame and Fury

Splat…splat, spat…splat.

Damn it. This thing is everywhere.

Claws dig into my shoulders, hauling me up. I punch erratically, managing to nail the Nyte in the throat. As I start to fall, she snags me by my right arm.

I scream when the Nyte bites down. Her needle-thin fangs pierce to the bone and pull at the flesh. Sparky is stronger and tougher than I am. I’ll be long dead before she goes, and she proves exactly why. The glow intensifies, lessening the pain. It still freaking hurts, and my swearing proclaims as much, but we’re not done fighting Fucked-up Ariel yet.

The Nyte spits out the fangs that don’t survive Sparky’s tough hide, not that it discourages her. She chomps away, determined to reach Sparky’s gooey insides. The way my arm is pointing, all I’ll do is hit the ceiling if I fire. It’s a long way down, and I’m not certain I’ll survive the fall should I strike.

Emme spins wildly, pulling at the webbing stuck to her face. “Taran, where are you? What’s happening?”

“She’s gnawing on me like fried chicken.”

“She’s calling you fried chicken?”

“No. She’s trying to eat me.Eat me,” I repeat.

“Eat you?”

It’s only then I realize the amount of goop stuck to her ear. Screw it. I’ll take my chance with the fall. I take a breath and focus, trying to gather my power.Come on, Sparky. Let’s light her shit up.

The Nyte clamps down with both sets of fangs, her maw trembling violently as the force of my magic builds. Sparky is ready to explode. This does not discourage my freaky friend. Like a famished hillbilly getting his first bite of corn on the cob, the Nyte chomps up and down on my arm.

Flames spiral along my arm, burning her. Instead of screaming in pain, or heaven forbid letting me go, the Nyte tilts its head back and forth, curious, examining my arm like a rare treasure. Whatever. The treasure box is ready to blow.

Heat casts a stream of perspiration across my forehead just a breath before ripples of fire consume the Nyte and the entire ceiling. I’m dropped like a stone, barely managing to stagger to my knees when she charges.

Flames cover her from head to toe, eating at her skin. My right arm isn’t enough to shield me from the Nyte’s strength. She rams me into the cement tub and submerges me, the quick and rough movements she uses throwing my legs up.

Her hideous laughter is muffled beneath the water, and her gruesome features distort from the waves caused by my writhing. She pins my arm to my chest, holding me down. I panic, losing focus and preventing my power from building.

Drowning is among my biggest fears. Death by rabid and scary creature is up there too. I never counted on this delightful combination. Except here am, losing consciousness fast.

Her laughter and image fade replaced by white light. No. Not light.Mist.

My head pokes through the water and above the mist. I’m somewhere else in the manor. The familiar sense of Vieve’s spells pokes at me, as do the aroma of lavender, thyme, rosemary, and belladonna (her favorite).

Grunts of pleasure and pain mix in conjunction with hands passing quickly over skin. I turn in the direction of the sounds, my hands covering my mouth when I see Johnny.

He’s crouched on the floor with his back to me, naked, his hand moving fast. The colorful tats along his skin crawl up and down his spine and across his shoulders, agitated and aroused. I don’t have time to act. The leopard prowling through a section of his inked jungle immediately spots me. It roars, leaping off his back and alerting Johnny.

Paws press into my shoulders, and I slam back into the water.

I break through the surface, gasping and gulping for air.

It takes me a moment to realize I’m back in the bathroom, gripping the edge of the tub. My weakened state has me sliding back into the water. Emme’sforcejerks me back up.

“Taran,” she yells. “Get out. I can’t hold her much longer.”

Emme has the Nyte pressed against the wall beside me with her power, her face reddening with the energy it’s costing her. I startle when a severed webbed hand brushes against my back and drags my soggy ass from the tub.

The Nyte should be in agony, chunks of her flesh were burned by my flame, and she’s missing a hand. Except here she is, laughing in that girlish and frenzied giggle, what remains of her limbs shaking as if tickled.

I shove my right hand in the water, letting my fury overtake my magic. A bubble forms, then several more, the temperature rising fast and into an atomic boil.

“Drop her,” I tell Emme.

Emme doesn’t hesitate, collapsing beside me.