"Leave one alive, Cal, to lead us to the lamia."
Thick and bitter fluid flooded out of the Annis's throat and across my face. Trying not to retch as it worked its way into my mouth, I spat with revulsion and shot back, "I'll try and show some self-control." Then I stopped tasting the blood and caught the scent of it … or rather what was in it. "Oh, hell. We are so not getting paid."
I tossed the thing off me, its teeth still feebly gnashing, and saw Niko, who had moved a distance away to get a little elbow room. He was surrounded by four of them. "Forget the restraint," I called. "They ate her." I smelled it in the one twitching beside me … in the blood, on her last breath…hell, leaking out of her damn pores.
Niko shook his head. "Annoying." He swung at the nearest Annis to decapitate it, only to have his sword repelled by that unbreakable spine. I heard the grating clash of metal and impervious bone. He frowned. "Even more annoying." Stepping back with a deceptive speed of his own, he sheathed about nine inches of his sword through the Annis's single eye. Niko turned to present his side to her and lashed out with a foot to propel her off the blade and into another Annis.
He had things, as always, under control, and I decided to take care of my own business. Two more of them were circling me, wary of the knife. What they weren't concerned with was the gun I had hidden behind my leg. One snarled, I swear, just like the cranky old woman we'd lived next to in one of the trailer parks where our mother had set up her fortune-telling scam. That old biddy had sicced her yappy, ankle-biting dog on us more times than I could count. The Annis didn't need a dog, yappy or otherwise.
"Shouldn't you be baking cookies or playing bingo, Granny?" I gave her a black grin, tapping the muzzle of my gun on the back of my thigh. She crabbed closer, her hands bent into claws in front of her.
"You are no little boy." Her grin was so broad I could see the black gums gleaming slickly. "Your flesh will not be soft." It was gloating, the words rolling around her tongue as though she were already savoring the meat in her mouth. "We will eat it anyway."
I'd heard it all before.
I shot the mouthy one. I nailed her in mid maniacal, choking laugh. She saw the gun as I whipped it from behind me, and she'd already started to move. It didn't do her a damn bit of good. Despite the one second it took, the other one was already on me. Like I said…quick.
It hit me from the side. I'd already been turning to prevent it from getting behind me. This time the teeth did reach me, fastening on the junction of neck and shoulder. Like the ragged edge of a saw, they ground in and locked. And there went the chunk I'd been so sure that I wouldn't lose tonight.
As with the first one, I used my knife, but this time opened the belly. Whatever spilled free slithered down my hip and leg. Slithered…not fell. That was some serious motivation to get granny off my neck, and to hell with the mouthful of flesh she might take with her. Ripping her and her death grip off of me, I spun her and threw her as far as I could, and then I took a look at what was twining its way around my leg.
Holy shit. I mean, really…holy shit.
The bright pain and blood flowing steadily under the collar of my jacket to stain my T-shirt took a backseat just like that—because what felt like snakes wasn't. Not that that wouldn't have been bad enough, snakes falling out of someone's gut. But I couldn't get that lucky, could I? Nope. What I got was a crawling combination of worms and intestines with a little barracuda tossed in. They undulated slow and sure like the worm, were ropy and dripping intestinal fluids, and had the bear trap mouth of a barracuda. Did I shake my leg like I was having an epileptic seizure? Yes, I did. Did I scream like a B-movie bimbo? No…but it was a close thing. Niko never would've let me live that down.
I stepped back from the seething mass. "Jeeesus."
"Problems?" Niko was already peeling my jacket off one shoulder to examine the wound.
I swiped it with my hand. The pain was subsiding to a sharp ache and I decided the Annis had gotten away with less than the mouthful I'd thought she had. It had been an appetizer at best.
Past Nik I could see one Annis still alive. Her wrists and ankles were handcuffed, and she was writhing, hissing, and biting the ground like a rabid dog.
A monster wearing handcuffs—it was a little reality-jarring at first. We'd started carrying them months ago when we needed to restrain a werewolf, one who really didn't care to be restrained. He normally might've shattered them—I wasn't sure how strong Flay was—but he'd been injured and was barely alive. He'd been incapable of lifting his head, much less ripping apart steel. Still, it was a useful learning experience, and we'd carried them with us ever since.