Some people in the crowd started throwing up. The air mixed with the dead forest's humidity. It wouldn't let a person breathe fresh air. It sat in the lungs like wet cloth. Every inhale tasted like old meat and moss gone to rot.
"Chic chic chic." The infernal looked happy at the crowd's reactions. Its eyes — pure black with protruding veins — scanned the crowd like it was looking for something. Not food. Not yet. Something else.
Its eyes settled on Chloe's group and lingered. Chloe felt it.
The way its eyes scanned her felt like wriggling worms on her skin. Cold. Slick. Wrong. She shuddered with disgust.
Larent's hand on Chloe's waist tightened a little, and she felt alive. Felt his human warmth. The earlier feeling evaporated, burned away by the heat of his palm through her shirt.
