Persie Merlin and the Witch Hunters - Bella Forrest Page 0,55

two years later, unable to remember her own name, only the creature that had attacked her.’”

Hands shaking, I glanced at Genie and Nathan. “I think we know why the pixies got sick.”

“He drained them,” Genie said, horrified. “What if…” She didn’t need to finish the sentence.

I nodded slowly, looking to the pixies, all three of whom had given up their fist-shaking and fallen fast asleep. “But how can this guy be one? Is it possible to curse someone into becoming a monster? It doesn’t say anything here about transforming into humans, and he claimed he hadn’t always been like that.” I rubbed the back of my neck to wipe away the cold, nasty feeling. “I thought Purge beasts had to be created by a magical—like, in a birthed sense.”

“I’ll have to delve deeper into it,” Nathan replied, his face gray with worry. “It’s not something I’ve come across before, so I may have to look into some less-than-savory books. But we’ll to get to the bottom of this. I just hope he’s not as dangerous as his ‘birthed’ counterparts.”

“You think he might not be?” That particular thought hadn’t crossed my mind.

Nathan shrugged. “I don’t know. For all of our sakes, let’s hope it’s been watered down somewhat.”

I knew what he was thinking, and I could see the same fear reflected on Genie’s face. If my kidnapper was that much of a threat, and a Fear Dearg could waste a person away with a direct blast, what damage could that guy have done to me if the Grendel hadn’t saved the day when he had? Would I have survived, like Saoirse? If you could even call that surviving. Would I have been in a hospital bed right now, aged sixty-plus years in a single night?

Sixteen

Nathan

I settled in for a solitary remainder of the afternoon, with no one but my books and my monsters for company. Persie’s discovery had unsettled me greatly, all the more so because I’d overlooked such valuable information. I blamed the sleepless night I’d spent trying to find anything to aid the pixies, so absorbed in my work that I hadn’t even noticed the sky turning from night to hazy dawn to full daylight. I couldn’t believe I’d been so solely focused on the pixies’ recovery that I truly hadn’t noticed a simple spelling alteration of the same phonetics. For a scientist and researcher like me, it wasn’t my proudest moment.

The Grendel had obviously taken a great deal out of Persie. She’d looked as pale and drained as the pixies, and one needed only to look at her latest Purge to understand why. He was as majestic as he was gigantic, though the poor thing hadn’t stopped whining since Persie had left with Genie a half-hour ago. Persie had tried to insist on staying to help me research the Fear Dearg, but Genie had wrangled her into going back to the residential quarters to get some kip—or a nap, as they called it in America.

“I’m sorry, chum,” I told our latest arrival. He peered mournfully at me, his tail unmoving, all enthusiasm for life evaporated. From my observations, I’d come to learn that Purge beasts reacted in four different ways to being put inside glass boxes: some didn’t care at all, already resigned to the whims of fate or not bright enough to understand; some showed fear through violence or a refusal to eat; some tried to escape, which might’ve been the most upsetting of all because such an endeavor was, ultimately, futile; and the fourth set of newcomers tended to get very quiet or very sad as they realized the enormity of what was happening to them. True, they might not have fully understood the endgame, but they were aware that life as they knew it had come to an end. And the Grendel fell into the fourth category.

The Grendel buried his head deeper into the dip between his forelegs, his ears bent backward like a frightened animal. All the while, he whined for Persie, his heartbreak evident. In truth, that had startled me more than any other reaction. Bonds could, obviously, develop between humans and Purge beasts, but I’d never seen one develop this quickly or with such intensity—not to mention the fact that he had charged to Persie’s defense within moments of being created.

“Remarkable,” I said, to no one at all.

“He is, isn’t he?” The voice jolted me out of my personal thoughts. I turned sharply in my chair to find Genie standing in the