Glowing red eyes, piggy snouts, tusks protruding from their bottom teeth. Hands ending in long, black claws. “Get him!” one yelled, words garbled by his misshapen mouth.
What the fuck? Those weren’t men. What were those things? They lifted their noses into the air, giving a loud sniff. Both grinned. And ran.
Right at Piers.
Oh, shit! Why wouldn’t his feet move?
They gained ground. Fast. His feet unstuck. He hauled ass, slamming into something solid. The metal trashcan clattered to the ground. Whatever chased him neatly vaulted the hurdle. No, no, no, no, no. Just his luck: no cops when he needed them.
“You can’t outrun us, human,” one of the things chasing Piers shouted. Damn thing didn’t even sound winded.
No moving cars, just parked vehicles. Piers hit the hood of a few with his fists. Alarms might bring cops. He ran down the center of the road in one of the busiest parts of town. Late shift workers should be going home, and club-goers meeting hookups or dates.
No cats, no dogs. Oh, God. Pain! Shoving a hand against the agony in his side, Piers kept going, nearly falling when he tripped over something he didn’t pause to see. He puffed out labored breaths, chancing a glance behind. Bad idea. The gap closed more with each block. No outrunning them. What could he do? Another tusked horror came out of nowhere, cutting him off.
Darkness fell, the streetlights going out, one after the other. Maybe they couldn’t see him in the dark.
No such luck. Red glowing eyes. Fuck.
Piers spun to the right, but one of those things appeared. He tried left. Another one. They herded him like a damned sheep. With no other choice, he ducked down an alley.Please, please, please let there be a way out!
Down he went. No! No! No! Without knowing how, he found himself back on his feet. Door. Dare he hope? First one. Locked! Damn! Second, locked. Bracing his back against a dumpster, he kicked the door. Ow! He kicked again.
If he could summon barbeque, he should be able to open a door, damn it!
He tried the doors on either side. At the very end of the alley, he reached a wall. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Trapped. He whirled. Three of the fuckers came after him. The grunts tossed back and forth sounded like some form of language.
Back to the grimy concrete wall, Piers prepared for the worst. How bad could the situation get? What were these things? What did they want?
He threw out his hand and wished,Go away!The things went flying. Piers glanced in the direction of the fallen muscle-bound horrors, his hand, and the horrors again.
What. The. Ever. Loving. Fuck.
Pale misty light let him see, but barely. They climbed to their feet, huffing out what could only be threats.
The roar of an engine reverberated off the walls.
A car? Finally! White light shone in Piers’ eyes.
The largest damned motorcycle he’d ever seen barreled down the alley, scattering the whatever-the-hell-they-were. Gleaming black. Silver wings on the sides. Were the wings moving? Couldn’t be.
“Get on!” the leather-clad, helmeted driver barked, tossing Piers a helmet.
Pier stood for a long moment. This couldn’t be happening. One of those things growled down the alleyway. He hopped on the back of the bike, yanking the helmet onto his head.
“Hang on!” the driver yelled. He revved the bike once, twice.
Three hulking shapes came out of the darkness, red eyes aglow. How the fuck were they going to get out of the alley?
The driver revved the bike again, jerking Piers’ neck on takeoff.
Heading straight for the wall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Magical Realm
If the man clutching him way too tightly didn’t stop screaming into his ear, Wycke might cast a silencing spell. Immediately, he doubled over in pain, clutching at his stomach, and let out a scream of his own. Chynne’s spur-of-the-moment portal left a lot of room for improvement. Thank the ancestors, the motorcycle drove itself—unless the damned thing copped an attitude.