Page 2 of Filthy Fae

“Get down, and I won’t kill you,” Darrel yelled, as razor-sharp claws extended from his fingers.

The naked giant didn’t even slow. He leapt at my mate, his tongue lashing out and whipping Darrel across the face. While the creature was mid-lunge, Darrel sliced out with his claws, tearing across the being’s neck with brutal efficiency.

The figure collapsed, crumpling to the ground and twitching as it oozed green liquid from its pale neck. He twitched twice and then stilled.

“What the hell is it?” I asked Darrel. I slowed near the creature but kept my distance. Who knew if it was going to pop back up and attack us? The smell was even worse now, a cloying combination of rotting eggs, fish, and vegetables mixed with shit. I pinched my nose, but it did nothing to block the odor.

The being’s body was built like a Roman statue and similar in color. Where his eyes should be, he had only dark pits. He had no nose either, only two slits on smooth skin. His most prominent feature—aside from the one between his legs which I was studiously ignoring, was a circular, lipless mouth and engorged red tongue.

“Is it a ghoul?” Darrel asked as he leaned in to inspect the being’s corpse. After a moment, he also pinched his nose. “Smells like it's been dead for a while.”

“Are ghouls supposed to have that?” I pointed toward the creature’s massive genitals, keeping my gaze well above the border.

“I don’t know, but I got the distinct impression that it was trying to latch onto me with that mouth.” He gestured down to the dead thing’s grotesque, gaping maw.

Just thinking about it made acid shoot up my throat again. The taste was almost better than the reek of the creature.

“I don’t think anyone will doubt the fairness of this kill. But...” I took a step toward Darrel. “I should call emergency services to see if they can identify the next of kin, if ghouls, or whatever he is, have next of kin. All we need is—”

There was a loud gurgling sound, and then the figure exploded. Slimy green liquid sprayed in every direction, showering my jeans, boots, and jacket. Immediately, I felt a hot burning sensation where it hit.

“Acid! Get your clothes off!” Darrel cried, at my side in a heartbeat, yanking at my belt.

“You do yours,” I called back as I worked at my jeans button with numb fingers. I managed to kick off my boots, accidentally flinging them into the slime puddle. My skin burned and boiled where the acid had eaten through. It felt like bugs made of hot coals were burrowing into my flesh. My button gave way, and I peeled off the material.

Darrel had ignored my plea for him to take care of himself first, and he had my jacket open enough that I could quickly pull my arms through.

“Seriously, Darrel, your shirt,” I said, frantically, yanking at the half-eaten material and ripping the remaining scraps of his shirt off of him. Burn marks spread over his abdomen. “And your pants!”

They were even worse, the acid having hit dangerously close to his fly and still spreading, eating up the material. My wolf came roaring to the forefront, panic thrumming through us. I attempted to keep my fingers from sharpening to claws while fumbling at the button to his fly. We popped it open and shoved down his pants and boxers. It was impossible for my wolf and me to untangle his pants from his boots, so my claws elongated, and I shredded the remaining material.

“Scarlet,” Darrel said, leaning down. “Scarlet, I’m fine.”

To our amazement, there was the slightest trace of laughter in his voice. My gaze met his, and slowly, my wolf retreated. My voice still came out a little growly as I asked, “What’s so funny?”

He grabbed my hands and pulled me up. “You seemed worried.”

“I was worried about you. You focused on helping me while the acid was burning into your skin.”

He kicked off his boots as a slow smile spread over his face. “It just seemed like you were… Extra worried about certain parts of me.”

Against my will, my gaze dipped, but I forced it back up. When I looked into Darrel’s face, he was almost smiling. It was something he’d done more and more in the month and a half we’d been quasi-dating. And by quasi-dating, I mean getting crazy about each other without actually dating.

“I care about every part of you equally,” I said, running my hands over the newly healed skin on his chest.

He covered my hands with his. “How are you feeling? Anything still burning?”

A loud scraping sound came from a few floors above, and a head popped out, which should have been impossible as there was supposed to be a screen there. Sara, one of the dragon shifter sisters, glared down at me from her third-floor window. The rain-slicked down her shimmering blue hair, but she didn’t seem to notice. She pointed out at me in clear condemnation. “So, clearly the new clothing mandatory in public spaces rule doesn’t apply to everyone. I see you, Scarlet Riley.”

“Sara,” I said on a sigh as I gestured to the acid-scorched grass. “Some ghoul attacked us and exploded, dousing us in acid. The rules remain the same.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Sara’s sister, Tara, said as she too stuck her head out the window. “We have a right to be naked in our own complex. We will not let the man tell us what to do.”

I turned fully toward them. “I’m definitely not ‘the man,’ but I am telling you the rules, and you’re going to follow them. Walking around naked in the public areas is not your right—it’s a privilege. You lost that privilege when you almost decapitated Fred. You should just be grateful that the doctors could reattach his head, there’s no lasting damage, and he’s probably not going to sue you. This is a Haven House, and I really don’t want to have to evict you for breaking policy.”

“This isn’t over,” Sara said as both the dragon shifters pulled their heads back. “You have no idea what pains-in-your-asses we can be.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” I called after them, getting only a slammed window in response.