Heart of Stone (Rock Star Fairy Tales #1)

Chapter 27

C h apte r 27

Dressin g Monsters

T here was an awful wrenching noise, and the door opened, slowly this time as the monster stayed behind it. Margot held her position, bat ready, waiting for the creature to reveal itself. There was a noise from the front of the bus where Ash was, but she ignored it, waiting for her own foe to mat erialize.

It’s waiting for me to come out, she thought. Like I’m an idiot. A long moment passed, and there were several more loud noises from the front of the bus. She wanted to look, but something told her that the creature could see her somehow, sense her, and it was waiting for her to be distracted. Ash is fine, she told herself. He’s some uber fae prince. He’s got this. Me, on the ot her hand…

She ran through her newfound fae skills: wings—not super useful at the moment, glamour—pretty sure it knew what she was, and the storm—that had exhausted her. And while she wanted to destroy the creatures, especially after hearing the mangling of her poor bus, she was rethinking her decision not to run the first one over. Not yet anyway. She recalled Tobin’s comment about sucking water out of bodies and wished suddenly that she had an idea how to do that—if she ev en could.

Another moment passed. There was a loud thump as something hit the front of the bus, and she forced herself to stare out the open door instead, not checking the front window to see who it had been.

“Oh, come on,” she said finally. “You just going to hide out there? Scared of a little girl in a bus? You don’t deserve to C laim me!”

There was a screech, and the creature materialized in the open door. Margot got a good look at it: the cracked and ruined remains of skin that covered what must have been a human face, the bedraggled remains of hair flowing from clumps on its skull and hanging over what appeared to be rotten clothing under a worn black cloak. It was every monster she had run from in every nightmare. A strange feeling slid up her skin, a dark push of power, and she could feel her will to fight back slipp ing away.

For a split second, she froze, panic seizing her muscles, but then her sweaty hands slipped a fraction on the metal bat, and she came back to herself, recalling her plan. She swung the bat, twisting her hips as much as possible in the small space, aiming for the creature’s face, and was rewarded by an awful wet snapping sound as she connected. The creature tried to shriek, but she must have damaged its nose because the sound was muffled. The cloak flowed up, clearly trying to protect its head. Margot wound up and swung again, this time not as hard but glancing off the cheek as the cloak deflected he r attack.

“Seriously with the magic cloak!” she yelped, using the bat as a crutch as she kicked at the creature. It hadn’t expected a blow from her foot and actually moved a step away from the door. Margot winced, pain radiating up her ankle and knee. It had been like kicking the side of the bus. Ignoring the pain, she swung the bat again, not wanting the thing to get inside. Its hands were tipped with long claws, and once it gathered its senses, it wouldn’t take much to slice her t o pieces.

She was holding her own, but it wouldn’t last. “Ash!” she squealed, kicking at the creature again as it lunged at her, a claw catching her hip and dragging a line of fire across her body. She screamed, unable to stop, and almost dropped the bat. It remained in front of her body, luckily in the right position for her to deflect the other claw as it swiped at her. “Ash,” she managed, the name only a puff of air instead of a sound. Her left hand fell to her hip, pressing against the hot line as a wave of warm heat flooded down her leg.

Do something, she ordered herself, willing another power to manifest. You’re the daughter of a fae Lord—that has to mean something! Despite her pleas to the power within, nothing happened. The faeng reeled back, winding up for another blow, and Margot turned to the side, hoping to make a smaller target, the bat held vertically before her unwounded right side. The claw swung at the space where she had been, and she stumbled back, deeper inside the van, landing hard on her swivel seat. She poked the bat at the creature still in the doorway, a futile gesture, and it climbed inside, sinewy limbs first moving onto the step, then a hand gripping the wall on its left.

“Mine,” it hissed, and Margot tried to hit it with the bat. It knocked the weapon away, her fingers going numb with the force of the blow. Her hand flailed, reaching for anything she could use as a weapon, and settled on the bin of clothes tucked in the bottom of her closet. Without thinking, she clutched a handful of fabric and flung it at the creature.

A pink tank top hit it square in the head, then slid down to hang awkwardly on one clawed hand. The faeng paused, as shocked as she was, then growled and swiped the sh irt away.

“Fu—” Margot managed, but an arm appeared around the faeng’s neck, wrapping it in a chokehold. The body was yanked roughly from the bus, claws scraping the doorframe as it was forced away. There was another horrible screech, a crash, and then nothing.

Margot sat in stunned silence, hand still pressed against the slash on her hip, waiting for movement. When she heard more sounds of battle from the front of the bus, she staggered to her feet, using the desk for leverage, then hopped awkwardly to the doorway, hanging onto the twisted doorframe for balance. Her hip was aching fire, but she needed to know that Ash was alright.

“Ash?” she asked, leaning out to see what was going on. The pile of what had been her faeng lay a few feet away, unmoving. She looked to her right, surprised to find Ash slumped halfway down the passen ger door.

“Ash!” she yelled and scrambled down, forgetting her hip as she slid to a halt next to him. He was a mess—his face swollen and streaked with blood, his light blue shirt shredded and dark with patches of blood. Another shriek made her jerk her head up, searching for what had made the sound. Hadn’t Ash just saved her? Wouldn’t he have finished with his fae ng first?

Her questions were answered as she took in the scene before her bus. The original creature was still alive, but barely, its limbs flailing weakly in the grip of the other fae who held it aloft.

“Die,” Tobin ordered, shaking the faeng once more with a force that disconnected several joints in its body. He let it drop to a pile, shaking his hand as if ridding himself of the creature’s filth. Margot stared at his back, the man she recognized, knowing him deep inside somehow, and yet he was also a stranger—a terrifying fae who had held that creature up with one hand and literally shaken it to death. Her chest heaved, and she realized she had stopped b reathing.

It’s just Tobin, she reminded herself. He’s on y our side .

Thank the fucking gods, s he added.