Married to Krampus - Marina Simcoe Page 0,66

there all along. Bitterness fueled his anger at the failure of the management to foresee this. If they had only consulted someone who’d actually been to war with those things. If anyone had only asked him before deciding it was a good idea to exhibit a fescod, seething with aggression, for the peaceful weekend crowd.

“Olvar! Where are you?”

“Daddy!” a child’s voice came from up ahead.

Olvar!

He increased his efforts, moving faster while pushing against the avalanche of people. Squeezing all the way to the wall, he saw his son up ahead. Curled against a support arch, Olvar crouched low to the floor by the wall. It was a miracle he’d managed to escape a crushing blow from one of the many hooves rushing by.

Grevar couldn’t get to him yet, though. The crowd seemed to be thickening by the minute.

“Is he yours?” a man in bright civilian clothing asked, scooping Olvar off the floor.

“Yes!”

“Daddy!” The boy reached for him over the moving forest of horns.

“Come here, you.” He snatched his son from the stranger.

“Hurry,” the man said urgently. “Get him out of here. The monster back there has been trampling over anyone who tried to stop him.”

Fescods weren’t easy to stop. With no necks to snap or heads to smash, with thick skin, and all their appendages often completely hidden inside their bodies, they were nearly invincible. Someone who had never faced them in a battle before wouldn’t know what to do.

Well, at least the Zoo security had the right weapons on them as they rushed past. They should be able to stop the carnage.

His priority was to get his family to safety as soon as possible.

Carrying his son under his arm, Grevar hurried back to the parking platform.

Out of the tunnel again, he headed straight in the direction of their aircraft. First, he had to get his family out of danger, then he’d have to see what could be done about the raging fescod on the loose.

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of the amorphous body of the fescod suddenly rolling out of another walkway and onto the parking platform.

Then, his heart nearly skidded to a stop as the creature rammed into Daisy at full speed, knocking her off her feet. Before the fescod had a chance to go after Zun, who was gaping at him in horror strapped to his seat inside the aircraft, Daisy screamed, diverting the creature’s attention back to herself. Zun slammed on the button, lowering the door.

Sprouting long protrusions tipped with sharp pincers, the fescod rolled over to Daisy.

His wife screamed again, making his blood curdle with horror.

Putting Olvar down, Grevar remotely clicked open the aircraft door on the opposite side of the fescod.

“To the aircraft.” He gently pushed his son in that direction. “Lock the doors behind you.”

The boy nodded, a somber focus on his little face. The Academy’s training must’ve kicked in, as his son sprinted to the aircraft at full speed, then jumped inside it and hit the door lock button—all without a word of fear or protest.

At the same moment, Grevar charged the fescod.

The old, familiar rage flared high. Only this time, it seemed a million times stronger as it was fanned by fear. Fear for his wife. The horror of any harm done to her blinded him as he rammed his horns into the fescod’s meaty side at full speed.

Shoved to his side and away from Daisy, the alien switched his attention and his pincers to Grevar.

Dark blood gushed from the two puncture wounds left by Grevar’s horns.

Since his claws had been filed to better suit the peaceful life in Voran, Grevar was unable to pierce through the fescod’s thick skin by using his hands. His fingers slipped, getting no grip on the bulging mass.

The fescod’s pincers dug into Grevar’s arms and shoulders, tearing at his clothes and his flesh underneath.

He growled in agony, shoving against his enemy with all his might. They rolled on the ground together. Clawing at the fescod’s skin, his hands slick with the creature’s blood, he stuck one finger into the wound left by his horns then quickly inserted another finger.

The massive bulk of the fescod shuddered with pain as Grevar sank his fingers deeper. The pincers ferociously ripped at his army coat, fur, and flesh, but Grevar wouldn’t let go.

Yanking at the edges of the wound, he ripped the fescod’s flesh open. It quivered under his fingers when he reached inside with both hands. Feeling the cluster of fescod’s beating hearts inside, he