flitting round at night isn’t for the wise. That’s what you need to do about it.”
Stamp turned to all of them now, even Gabriel, who knew that just because the kid hadn’t singled him out didn’t mean he hadn’t been fully aware that Gabriel was there, waiting, nearly quaking with the effort of watching and wondering what any of this had to do with Annie . . . or Abby.
“If another one of my men ends up with his belly torn open,” the kid said, “I’ll be back here for better answers. But I think we can agree to live alongside one another well enough instead. Understand?”
Zel’s voice was low as she spoke. “We understand. But you won’t find any answers about what happened to your man in this room, Mr. Stamp, I promise you that. There really are wild things out there at night. Nature hasn’t been shy about providing them.”
Sammy was quick to support her. “If you’d just keep your men inside, you won’t find any of them attacked from now on.”
For a second, it seemed that Stamp and his men would leave without further ado.
Until the old man said his last piece.
“Hence, screw you and the horse you rode in on—”
Seemingly resigned, Stamp gestured toward Whale Hide, who yanked a contraption out of a long pocket of his heat suit and zap-flicked it toward the oldster.
Too late, Gabriel saw that it was a taserwhip, the length of it sizzling through the air toward the old man’s neck.
Gabriel felt himself going into a crouch, automatically preparing to spring and intercept the lash by wrapping it around his hand, reeling the culprit toward him for a preemptory reckoning. The electricity would give him a charge, yet he’d heal quicker than the oldster.
But, near his feet, Chaplin pressed hard against Gabriel’s legs, the dog opening his mind, pushing in images of what would occur if Stamp’s men realized that they had a monster in the room:
More whips, zap-flicking toward Gabriel, lashing around his neck and arms, capturing him. . . .
The images caused Gabriel a second of hesitation—one in which the taserwhip sang out to curl around the oldster’s neck.
The smell of burning skin hit the air.
As the man gurgled out a whimper under the grip of the lash, Gabriel could just about feel it, too. And when the old guy’s hands came up to pull the wire from around his neck before the thug could fully energize it, Gabriel couldn’t help but start forward, consequences or not, thinking that his own capture would be nothing compared to the pain of knowing something could’ve been done to avoid the old man’s anguish.
But Chaplin disagreed, fixing his teeth to his master’s trousers, urging him back and connecting to his mind with ferocious strength.
Mariah, the dog thought. All of us. Don’t make it worse.
That brought Gabriel to his senses.
If they saw how he withstood the electricity, they’d know, and he’d be no good to anyone right now if he exposed ha c, bringing this sanctuary into the sights of the authorities for harboring a monster.
So he hung back, digging his nails into his palms as he fisted his hands by his side, as helpless as he’d felt that night when he’d seen Abby wasting away.
The other two employees already had their whips out, eyeing Zel and Sammy, and the tips of Gabriel’s fangs pierced him.
But he pressed his lips together, narrowing his eyes.
“Don’t even think about it,” Stamp said to Gabriel. “Not unless you want the electricity turned on high and your old friend to really dance.”
Chaplin tore his teeth away from Gabriel’s trousers, barking at Stamp.
The kid’s gaze slid down to the dog.
Gabriel bent to wrap an arm around the canine’s neck, holding him from jumping in to defend Mariah’s friends now.
Outplayed, Gabriel thought to his familiar. Too much to lose, boy. You should know that.
But the notion abraded him, anyway. They’d all been retreating for a long time, and look where it’d gotten them—underground, hiding,
Stamp turned to all of them now, even Gabriel, who knew that just because the kid hadn’t singled him out didn’t mean he hadn’t been fully aware that Gabriel was there, waiting, nearly quaking with the effort of watching and wondering what any of this had to do with Annie . . . or Abby.
“If another one of my men ends up with his belly torn open,” the kid said, “I’ll be back here for better answers. But I think we can agree to live alongside one another well enough instead. Understand?”
Zel’s voice was low as she spoke. “We understand. But you won’t find any answers about what happened to your man in this room, Mr. Stamp, I promise you that. There really are wild things out there at night. Nature hasn’t been shy about providing them.”
Sammy was quick to support her. “If you’d just keep your men inside, you won’t find any of them attacked from now on.”
For a second, it seemed that Stamp and his men would leave without further ado.
Until the old man said his last piece.
“Hence, screw you and the horse you rode in on—”
Seemingly resigned, Stamp gestured toward Whale Hide, who yanked a contraption out of a long pocket of his heat suit and zap-flicked it toward the oldster.
Too late, Gabriel saw that it was a taserwhip, the length of it sizzling through the air toward the old man’s neck.
Gabriel felt himself going into a crouch, automatically preparing to spring and intercept the lash by wrapping it around his hand, reeling the culprit toward him for a preemptory reckoning. The electricity would give him a charge, yet he’d heal quicker than the oldster.
But, near his feet, Chaplin pressed hard against Gabriel’s legs, the dog opening his mind, pushing in images of what would occur if Stamp’s men realized that they had a monster in the room:
More whips, zap-flicking toward Gabriel, lashing around his neck and arms, capturing him. . . .
The images caused Gabriel a second of hesitation—one in which the taserwhip sang out to curl around the oldster’s neck.
The smell of burning skin hit the air.
As the man gurgled out a whimper under the grip of the lash, Gabriel could just about feel it, too. And when the old guy’s hands came up to pull the wire from around his neck before the thug could fully energize it, Gabriel couldn’t help but start forward, consequences or not, thinking that his own capture would be nothing compared to the pain of knowing something could’ve been done to avoid the old man’s anguish.
But Chaplin disagreed, fixing his teeth to his master’s trousers, urging him back and connecting to his mind with ferocious strength.
Mariah, the dog thought. All of us. Don’t make it worse.
That brought Gabriel to his senses.
If they saw how he withstood the electricity, they’d know, and he’d be no good to anyone right now if he exposed ha c, bringing this sanctuary into the sights of the authorities for harboring a monster.
So he hung back, digging his nails into his palms as he fisted his hands by his side, as helpless as he’d felt that night when he’d seen Abby wasting away.
The other two employees already had their whips out, eyeing Zel and Sammy, and the tips of Gabriel’s fangs pierced him.
But he pressed his lips together, narrowing his eyes.
“Don’t even think about it,” Stamp said to Gabriel. “Not unless you want the electricity turned on high and your old friend to really dance.”
Chaplin tore his teeth away from Gabriel’s trousers, barking at Stamp.
The kid’s gaze slid down to the dog.
Gabriel bent to wrap an arm around the canine’s neck, holding him from jumping in to defend Mariah’s friends now.
Outplayed, Gabriel thought to his familiar. Too much to lose, boy. You should know that.
But the notion abraded him, anyway. They’d all been retreating for a long time, and look where it’d gotten them—underground, hiding,
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