Love Croakies Sam Cheever (red queen ebook txt) 📖

her eyes. “We know it wasn’t your fault. That isn’t what she asked. What’s happening here?”

Okay, that wasn’t what I’d asked either, but it was a better question. I nodded, feeling stupid.

The woman’s lip curled. “I have no idea. I was running away from those things…” She threw a hand in the direction of the central mall area and shuddered. “The next thing I knew, somebody gave me a shove and I went flying.” She absently rubbed her hip. “I don’t know who thought those cherub things were a good PR stunt for Valentine’s Day, but they’ve backfired in a spectacular way. Somebody’s going to get sued.”

At her mention of cherubs, Sebille and I shared a look.

I started running toward the center of the mall, where the screams and explosions had reached a crescendo. Sebille flashed past me in her sprite form.

Buzzard blisters! “Sebille!” I yelled after her. “Not in front of the non-magics.”

I couldn’t see her tiny green eyes roll, but I knew they were arollin’. “She’s gone,” she yelled back. “Give me some credit, Naida.”

We hit the end of the short spoke of stores on the first level and emerged into a large, open area with picnic tables and the sweet-spicy mix of smells that told me we’d stumbled into the food court. Even as I had the thought, something warm and meaty splatted me on the side of the face.

Sebille flashed back to human size. “What a mess.”

She wasn’t wrong. The place looked like someone had emptied the entire contents of the food court into the middle of the mall. And what was there had been smashed and ground under a hundred panicked feet.

The scent of catsup hit my nostrils as the hotdog I’d been attacked with slid slowly down my cheek on a condiment track and plopped onto the food-littered floor.

“Heads up!” somebody screamed. Sebille and I ducked just in time to miss being hit in the face with a fried rice plate.

My stomach growled at the smell of crisp and tangy egg rolls.

“When did they add Chinese food to the court?” Sebille asked, spinning to avoid a paper cup filled with liquid. The cup hit the ground with a wet splat just behind us, the liquid splashing the back of my calves. “Ew! What is happening?”

We ducked behind an overturned picnic table and looked around. Several people were hightailing it to the exit at the end of the wide hall. The escaping customers were battered and blotched with food, and a couple of them were limping. As I watched, one young woman went down, shrieking. She covered her head with her arms as a plate of nachos hit her square in the back. I couldn’t tell where the cheesy projectile had come from. It had seemed to come out of thin air.

All over the messy marble floor, people lay in messy piles, limbs at awkward angles and eyes wide and glassy.

“Are they…dead?” I asked in a horrified whisper.

Sebille merely frowned.

The air above us spun and thickened. A terrifying cherubic face appeared. Sharp metallic-looking teeth gnashed too close to my nose, and a slender arrow pierced the space between Sebille and me.

Sebille shot energy at the nasty thing, but the cherub disappeared with a pop of displaced air.

“Why are these things here?” I asked. “And where’s Grym?”

Across the court, a man stumbled out from behind a post, arms frantically flailing against the air. He jerked suddenly, yelping, and slumped toward the ground, a tiny metal shaft protruding from his throat.

The air above the man thickened and a cherub seemed to buzz into view from nothing. The creature hovered about head-height, its tiny wings moving at hummingbird speed to keep it aloft. It held an empty bow in its chubby fist. Sebille’s fingers spit with energy. “Keep it busy,” she barked out. Then she popped into a dragon-fly-sized sprite and buzzed away, leaving a sparkling trail of pale green magic in her wake.

The cherub’s gaze slid in her direction. I grabbed the hot dog that had painted my face and surged to my feet. “Hey, ugly!” The creature jerked around to face me, a horrifying smile spreading on its chubby face.

An arrow appeared in one pudgy hand and the thing nocked it, a gleam in its black eyes.

I wound up and, using my best pitcher-on-the-mound technique, threw the dog at the cherub.

It splatted the spot just between its eyes.

The thing jerked, buzzed skyward in a panicked movement, and then growled before swiveling the bow in my direction.

Sebille suddenly appeared, hovering on the air behind it. A fully-formed web of magic flared from her fingers and dropped over the nasty critter.

Unfortunately, the arrow the cherub had nocked flew free, heading right for me.

Something big slammed into me, sending me flying just as the arrow hit the space where I’d been. The figure that had hit me grunted softly as we landed, and we skidded several feet through the slippery food debris before we came up hard against another large post.

I’d ducked and covered my head, expecting impact, but it never happened.

As we came to an abrupt stop, I looked up to see a muscular arm stretching toward the column. The hand attached to the arm had kept me from crashing into the big post.

Grym’s dark-caramel gaze looked slightly feverish in the harsh light. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, my gaze locked on his. “Fine. Thanks for saving me. You got here just in time.”

His yummy lips curved slowly upward, the sight making me feel warm and tingly in all the right places. “Nice pitch.”

Heat flared in my cheeks. “Um, yeah, thanks. I played a little softball back in the day.” I shifted uncomfortably, hoping the movement would inspire him to move. His nearness was making me a little dizzy.

His gaze heated. “Well, you throw a mean hotdog.”

My mouth became a desert, my tongue a dehydrated husk in my mouth. “I…” I cleared my throat, trying to find some moisture to rehydrate my mouth.

A large bug buzzed overhead. Sebille hovered