“Look who’s come to the seashore.”
The low voice, smooth and full of menace, woke me from sleep that night. My body tightened like a longbow and I tried to jump up, only to be held down by a big booted foot on my throat.
Ari. Always Ari.
In the next second, Fang and Iggy woke, and I snapped out my free hand to wake Nudge.
Adrenaline dumped into my veins, knotting my muscles. Angel woke and seemed to take off straight into the air with no running start. She clutched Celeste tightly, hovering about twenty feet above us. I saw her look around, saw her face take on an expression that had disaster written all over it.
I looked around too.
And gasped despite myself.
We were surrounded by Erasers, more Erasers than I’d ever seen before. Literally hundreds and hundreds of them. They’d been growing these things in quantities I could hardly imagine.
Ari leaned down and whispered, “You’re so pretty when you’re sleeping—and your mouth is shut. But what a shame to cut your hair.”
“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” I spat, struggling against his boot.
He laughed, then reached down and stroked my face with one claw. “I like ’em feisty.”
“Get off her!” Fang launched himself at Ari, taking him by surprise. Ari outweighed Fang by a hundred pounds, easy, but Fang was coldly furious and out for blood. He was scary when he was like that.
Iggy and I leaped up to help and were instantly grabbed by Erasers.
“Nudge and Gazzy—U and A,” I yelled. “Now!”
Obeying without question, the two of them leaped into the air and flapped hard, rising to hover next to Angel. Erasers snapped at their legs, but they’d been quick and were out of reach. I was so proud, especially when Nudge snarled down meanly.
I struggled, but three Erasers held me in a tight, foul embrace. “Fang!” I screamed, but he was beyond hearing, locked in battle with Ari, who raked his claws across Fang’s face, leaving parallel lines of red.
The six of us are superhumanly strong, but even we don’t have the sheer muscle mass of a full-grown Eraser. Fang was badly outmatched but managed to chop Ari’s collarbone.
Ari yelped and bared his teeth, then pulled back and swung hard, catching Fang upside of his head. I saw his head snap sideways and his eyes close, then he dropped like a dead weight onto the sand.
Ari seized Fang’s head and brought it down hard on a rock. And then he did it again.
“Leave him alone! Stop it! Please stop it!” I screamed, a mist of fury swimming before my eyes. I struggled against the Erasers holding me and managed to stomp on one’s instep. He yelped a curse and corkscrewed my arm until tears rolled down my cheeks.
Fang’s eyes opened weakly. Seeing Ari over him, he grabbed sand and threw it into Ari’s face. Fang scrambled to his feet and launched a roundhouse kick at Ari that caught him square in the chest. Ari staggered back, wheezing, then recoiled fast and cracked Fang with an elbow. Blood sprayed from Fang’s mouth, and again he went down.
I was crying by now but couldn’t speak: An Eraser’s rough, hairy paw was clapped over my mouth.
Then Ari bent over Fang’s body, his muzzle open, canines sharp and ready to tear Fang’s throat. “Had enough,” he growled viciously, “of life?”
Oh, God, oh, God, not Fang, not Fang, not Fang—
“Ari!”
My eyes went wide. I knew that voice too well.
Jeb. My adopted father. Now my worst enemy.
117
I stared with the fiercest, most righteous anger and hatred as Jeb Batchelder easily moved through the crowd of Erasers, parting them as if he were Moses and they were the Red Sea. It was still bizarre to see him—I’d been so used to mourning, not despising, him.
Ari paused, his rank and deadly mouth open over Fang’s neck. Fang was unconscious but still breathing.