(REWRITING) The Skylar Experiment : Coveting

Bonus Luc POV

I allowed the Wanderer to scurry but not without one hell of a flesh wound for a friendly warning.

I would have smoked it, if it weren't for the girl lying in the heap of leaves, may she be knocked out cold from my outburst. If she wasn't, well... Oh boy.

I silently stepped closer and crouched. That—that was very much a girl. Hair, form and all.

I picked a twig, snapped it in two, threw it at her.

A glow from my other palm illuminated her face. I snapped fingers around her ears. Good. One extra second and this situation would have gone from unpleasant to quite troublesome.

I snuffed my light out. She was pretty far up the buttcrack of this forest, far enough to get tagged. Now I had to carry this back to the house a few miles down. Just my luck.

"Idiot."

My attention zoned around her legs, noting the hand tightly wrapped around an ankle even in her unconscious state. I nudged her fingers away. Instantly, a discharge coursed from her to me. Not the questionable kind that would point out a need to get my head examined. That familiar, involuntary tingle uncurled down my spine, but it was weak. Had I imagined that?

I held her ankle. Energy welled to the tips of my fingers, ready to bond with her, a red flag that she must have sprained it somehow. The shrieks were moving around the woods before I narrowed them down. She'd been running in the pitch black.

The second I was done healing it, I kind of regretted it. Probably should have let her learn a valuable lesson.

Days ago, I'd noticed her and the father settling into that empty house downhill, at the border limit. I'd spied among the trees for so long I'd almost turned into wood myself, fuming over outsiders dwelling uncomfortably close. Another thing I should have done long ago was burn that house to the ground.

The guys and I kept catching a higher number of Wanderers passing through these parts—in the weeks leading up to this. One of us usually filled the role, maybe two.

So when these happy-go-lucky campers showed up with that moving truck, I wondered how fucked we were on a scale of one to ten.

I'd say a cushy five, for now.

Wanderers, once they choose their prey, would play and play and play some more until they pounced for the kill. That one will come back and finish its business.

Okay, maybe more like a five to seven, considering.

I'd stood there for long enough already. I stretched my arms in the dark, sliding my hands under her body. She was surprisingly not the lightest out there.

I trailed down the mountain with the living bundle against my chest. Her head swayed in the void at an odd position, so I propped it against me. I'd hate to snap that frail neck of hers.

I wasn't going to test now if I could heal it quicker than it would kill or paralyze her.

She started shivering halfway through, and I wasn't surprised with the scraps of clothes. September nights yielded no mercy here. Thankfully, my heat range could take care of that. One of the perks of being awesome.

I could let this midget freeze and spear her through a window.

I could easily abandon her on the roof of her new home.

Get it over with quick and cheap.

Except the cold could wake her up too soon and I didn't know which window belonged to her room. The roof was a bit much, even for me. She'd been in the middle of running from a real-life nightmare, after all.