Free Moonless by Crystal Collier

shoulder.
    The beings glided after them in as though suspended in time, tattered cloaks furling like the death flag of an advancing ship. Glimmering red pupils seared into her.
    Heaven help us!
    Those wide crimson circles consumed her world, promising to devour all she was.
    A low rumble pulled Alexia forward. The pain in her skull died and thunder roared toward them, dust billowing up. A horse!
    Sarah’s eyes met hers, drawn in terror and wide with disbelief. Questions flitted behind them.
    The Clydesdale skidded to a halt several yards away, whinnying and prancing backward. His rider, an adolescent youth, tugged at the reins, struggling to keep the beast steady. He glared past the women.
    The air about them chilled. The breeze died. Moisture clung to them and froze as though the world were turning to ice.
    “Hurry!” the young man called, offering a hand.
    She reached for him. He caught her and she landed on the animal behind him, startled by his strength. The beast clapped the ground anxiously. Their assailants soared near.
    He hefted Sarah with the same ease, dropping her before him. “Hold on!” He kicked the steed. It leapt forward.
    Alexia grabbed about his lean form, her skirts slipping across his saddle. The horse’s flanks trembled so greatly, she feared it would collapse before they could reach safety. She glanced back as they jolted away, gaining momentum.
    The creatures dropped on all fours, picking up the pace.
    “Don’t look!” The youth pulled her around. “You’ll encourage them.” That he could do anything but hold on at this ridiculous pace surprised her. “Clear your mind.” She caught the beauty of his luscious baritone. “Think of daytime, happiness, something pleasant.”
    “What?” she asked. “Who are you?”
    “No one.”
    The cool wind returned her senses. They’d pulled ahead! She buckled down to take cover.
    Street lamps came into focus, buildings emerging from the mass of civilization. The echo of the horse’s hooves deafened her to all else as the town reared up beneath them, streets empty.
    Her limbs trembled. “Are they still out there?”
    “Always.” His head half turned.
    “How do you—?”
    “Stop talking.”
    She did.
    Framed buildings sheltered them when the young man tugged hard on the tethers, stopping before a crude tavern with windows fastened tight.
    He slid off the animal and offered a leather-gloved hand to help her down. She took it willingly and Sarah followed suit.
    He stood a full foot and a half taller than either of them, very pale. He lifted a finger to his lips, warning them again to silence and motioned them after him. Alexia followed. Sarah grabbed her arm, halting her. Her aunt shook her head. Alexia flushed. She didn’t know this young man, what he wanted with them, or why he would dare induce two noble-born women to follow him into a common tavern. But she did know what was behind them.
    The youth rapped an odd rhythm on the heavy door and the reverberation echoed through the dead-silent street. Every window in sight had been boarded over. Not the slightest sliver of radiance penetrated their frames.
    Alexia shivered. They had no other resort.
    Sarah met her gaze, eyes wide. She seized Alexia’s hand as wood scraped on its brackets. The pub entry cracked open, spilling a splinter of welcoming light onto the gray cobbles. The door widened. A thick man in a sullied apron waved them in, eyes darting anxiously back and forth down the street.
    In they went.
    Four round tables crowded the room, each old and splintering, with matching chairs. Two somber-looking men stared into their tankards in the far corner. Another sat alone, gazing blankly into the fire. The lad followed Alexia through and the door shut. The tavern owner and young man hefted a heavy cross-beam into place, locking them in.
    The tavern owner straightened, wiping his greasy brow. “Any sight?”
    “Five,” the lad replied.
    The older man whistled. “Somethin’s got ‘em