My heart raced at the realization that the knife was in my boot. Owen snatched my arm out of their grip and spun around, coming face to face with a pretty, smiling girl.
"Wait! Oh, shit," I said, relieved he hadn't hit her.
She giggled. "Sorry, Bash. I didn't mean to scare you."
Owen gazed at her as I tried to calm myself and told him, "I've known Sara since kindergarten. She's a regular person. Act normal!"
I felt Owen lift one side of my mouth in a smirk as he said, "You're too cute to be scary, honey."
Her eyes widened, but she beamed up at him.
I gasped. "Dude, no! I didn't say flirt."
Sara pointed at a small coffee shop. "Me and a few girls are hanging out at Sprinkles. Since you're by yourself, I was wondering if you wanted to come have a treat with us?"
"NO! Say, no!" I yelled.
"No," Owen repeated.
Her expression fell, and guilt ate at me. "Be nice. What's wrong with you?"
Owen sighed. "I mean, thanks, but I was about to go home."
Her lips curved as her finger traced over my forearm. "Oh. Maybe we could hang out another time, you know, just the two of us?"
I'd forgotten how forward Sara was. "Tell her I'm dating Emily."
"I'm dating Emily." Owen sounded bored.
She leaned closer. "Emily's not here now."
Owen had stopped paying attention to her and was glancing at everything else, but she was bugging me. "Ugh, she's too close. Be nice; I don't want to hurt her feelings, but let's go."
Owen wasn't listening. He was staring past her to the end of the shopping complex, oblivious to her touching me.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "Her hand's on my stomach, back up."
Owen shook my head as he brushed her off. He was still looking down the street when he said, "No, thanks. Emily's better. Gotta go."
Sara huffed as he walked away, and I couldn't stop my laugh. "Dude, that was messed up."
"You wanted her gone." His serious tone sobered me, and I realized Owen was sizing up one particular man at the far end of the shopping center. He even stood on my toes to keep him in sight as people blocked his view.
The guy glanced back before gliding around the corner of the bar and disappearing. Owen moved faster, bumping people out of the way in his rush, saying, "Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me." Until we finally passed the shopping area and the crowd thinned.
"Is he a mimic?" I asked as we crossed the street, leaving the well lit stores and entering the shadows that surrounded the bar.
"I think so, and he noticed me."
Owen darted down the alleyway and skidded to a stop between the bar and the darkened woods circling the end of town. The mimic had vanished. An overflowing dumpster stood alone, filling the night with the sharp scent of rancid food. But the mimic couldn't have gotten far; he must've gone into the trees.
Adrenaline raced through me making my limbs tingle as Owen bent, slipped his weapon from my boot, and quietly stepped between the trees. About ten feet in, he stopped to listen and scan the area.
Leaves rustled. "Behind us!" I yelled, even though Owen was already turning.
The movement was a second too slow and the mimic's shoulder rammed into my stomach, tackling us to the ground, landing hard enough to knock the air from my lungs and the knife from my grasp.
The mimic straddled me, and Owen gagged at the putrid stench. "What the hell?"
"You should've checked the dumpster." The monster cackled as he fought to sink his razor-sharp claws into my skin, and Owen kept knocking them away.
My blood froze, but Owen's rage overpowered my fear. A quick swipe of my arm, and Owen punched the mimic's throat. He pulled away and collapsed to his side, struggling for breath while Owen reached the other direction for his weapon. My fingertips brushed leather, and Owen grunted as he stretched farther with the weight of the mimic still half on top of us.
Clutching the handle in my fist, Owen swung at the mimic, but the monster had already recovered and his claws dove at my chest. Warm blood rained down on me as his wrist collided with Owen's blade.
He roared with pain as his hand flopped uselessly. Flipping his hold on the knife, Owen aimed for the mimic's heart, and the monster seized my forearm just before the point could break his skin, stalling it in place as they fought for control.
His claws dug into me as Owen tightened his grip. The mimic smiled at the red rivulets running down my arm in a sticky web. "I thought we killed all the hunters."
"You thought wrong."
My muscles tensed as Owen abruptly grabbed the back of the mimic's neck, yanking him closer as he shoved the blade into his heart. The mimic's eyes widened. His arms gave out, and he collapsed, covering me. He disintegrated rapidly, leaving nothing but bones, clothes, and dust.
Lying there, with my chest heaving as though I'd just run a marathon, Owen snickered. "You okay up there, Bash?"
"Yeah, super. Get this guy's bits off me before we find out if I can make myself puke from in here."
Chuckling, Owen stood, shaking the remains from my clothes. He lifted my sleeve to check my wounds. The bleeding had slowed since the gashes weren't being held open by dirty claws. "We'll take care of this soon. It'll be fine."
"I hoped so. I don't want to catch some new monster-borne illness."
He ignored me and peered down at the pile that only a minute ago was trying to kill us, Owen sighed. "I should've brought a bag." He picked through the remains and located the mimic's jeans, shaking the junk off of them before tying the bottoms of the legs closed.
"What are you doing?"
"Making a bone-carrying sack out of his pants. What does it look like?" He shoved the skull through the waist of the jeans.
"Obviously," I mumbled as the pant legs filled with bones and he continued to clean the mess the mimic had become.
With only a few disgusting things left, Owen dropped the bag, grabbed the knife, and faced the street in one smooth motion. A second later, Lilla stomped into view, and Owen relaxed and slid the blade into my boot.
My relief at seeing her instead of another monster drained away as her arms crossed over her chest and she jutted her hip out. "Perfect. I finally had one close, and it disappeared. I should've known you wouldn't be able to only track them. How will we find more now?"
Owen groaned. "There was no choice; he attacked me."
"Oh, and I'm sure you hated to kill it."
Owen held up my arm, and crimson liquid dripped from my elbow. My adrenaline was high enough that nothing hurt yet.
"There were no options." Owen's tone was so hard I almost didn't recognize the voice as mine.
Lilla gawked before inhaling and letting it out slowly. "I shouldn't have been angry. I know you did what had to be done." She pulled a folded canvas bag out of her giant purse and tossed it to him with a brief grin. "I came prepared. Keep his shirt; you can't be seen like that."
Owen picked up the mimic's top, and finished bagging everything else. Facing Lilla, he pointed at my injury. "Can you do anything about this? It's still bleeding when I move. Changing clothes won't do any good."
"Of course." She came closer and wrapped her palms around my forearm.
Owen tensed, and scorching heat traveled from my injuries through my entire body. I wanted to jerk away, but Owen was running things, and he remained motionless. His total stillness was the only indication he felt the pain.
After what seemed like hours but was probably less than a minute, Lilla released me. Owen gasped, and I said, "What did you do?"
"I stopped the bleeding and started the healing." Lilla examined her work.
She backed away, and Owen used my ruined shirt to wipe most of the red liquid from my skin before pulling the mimic's top on. It was short, but good enough to wear home. He dropped my old top in the bag with the rest of the trash and was ready to go.
"You're gonna keep hunting?" I asked.
Owen wouldn't complain, and I was comfortable in here, but his movements were more careful than before. I knew he was in pain. He squinted through the dark at the injury. "It's not too bad, and the mimic came this way for a reason. She might be able to feel something and give us direction."
They were unbelievable. "And we're just gonna carry a sack of bones around?"
"No." Lilla stood with her hand on her hip. "I'll leave them here to pick up and dispose of later."
"Awesome." If I could, I'd cringe.
Lilla scoffed. "I'm sorry. Does that upset your delicate sensibilities?"
"Mellow out, Lilla," Owen said. "It's his first hunt, and he's doing fine."
"Fine, isn't good enough. Fine, could get someone killed."
She had no faith in me, and I huffed at the absurdity. "How could I mess anything up from in here?"
"I don't know. Distract Owen with your whining?"
"Lilla, stop," Owen snapped. His jaw clenched, and he waited a second before saying, "Bash tried to warn me the mimic was behind us. He stayed quiet during the fight, and he didn't make a sound when you healed him. You should—"
She held a finger to her lips, silencing him. "I feel one," she whispered, and stepped deeper into the trees. Owen took out his knife and followed without question.
A long while later, when we passed the same gnarled sweet gum tree for the third time, I couldn't stay quiet. "You know we've been here a couple of times, right?"
Owen nodded and murmured, "Yeah."
"Why would a mimic be circling in the woods?" I asked.
Owen looked at Lilla, and her fists balled at her sides. "How am I supposed to know what it's doing? I'm only following it. There are residential streets nearby; they could have a house."
That didn't make sense to me. "But if it's circling, and we're circling, couldn't it be following us?"
"Shut up, Bash!" she yelled. "You're only along for the ride because you have to be. You don't know anything."
"No, he's right. I was thinking the same thing."
She glared at Owen. "Are you frightened, too?"
Owen straightened and raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever seen me afraid?" He met her gaze until her focus moved to her shoes, then he said, "If it's following us, it won't lead us to more of them. I'm surprised it hasn't attacked."
"Fine. We aren't getting any closer anyway. Let's go." Spinning on her heel, Lilla stomped off, leading the way to town. When we got to the sack of bones, she threw it over her shoulder and kept walking. No one spoke on the ride to Owen's house.
As we pulled up in front of the cabin, Owen said, "I'll burn the remains in the backyard."
She took the bag as she left the truck. "That's alright. I'll do it. It won't take long, and you have to be back here early in the morning to canvas the streets near those woods."
Owen shook my head. "Bash has work, and we're usually not done until six or seven."
Her mouth fell open. "You must be joking."
He shrugged. "Before Bash agreed to this, I told him I wouldn't mess up his life. We'll pick you up when we're finished and help cover that area."
Lilla held up her hands. "No, I'll do it myself and let you know when I find something. You're slowing me down, anyway." She slammed the door and stalked around the side of the house.
Frustration filled Owen, so I said, "If we need to be with her, I guess I could tell Dad I'm sick."
"No. Lying could cause more problems. It'd be different if we knew where some are, but she'll just be wandering. She can get us if she finds anything."
"Right. What could go wrong?" I wasn't the biggest Lilla fan, but I didn't want her to get hurt.
Owen ignored the comment, and drove home.
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