POV: Rory Hale

Another appeared ahead, cutting me off. My chest heaved, panic keen and scorching.

“No, no, no…”

I grabbed the nearest book and tossed it. It went straight through the monster like it was mist. But the mist hissed, pushing tighter, creating claws.

“Help!” My voice cracked. “Somebody”

And then the growl came.

Deep. Savage. Close.

A flurry of silver and black tore past the aisle, crashing into the gloom. Snarls filled the air, volumes flying, shelves ...