““What am I doing?” he asked the darkness. He received no answer. “I have to escape, not rescue damsels in distress. If she is screaming that way, there is more than one tormentor involved. And I am out of time!” Those were Unseelie thoughts, but he didn’t acknowledge that aloud. Besides, he thought, picturing all the horrid creatures that made up most of the Unseelie Court, the screamer is unlikely to be a damsel. It could be a banshee or a wolf girl or a morrigan or . . . He turned away fr...om the screams and headed back toward what he hoped was the midden pile and freedom. The screams faded and finally stopped. He tried not to think about whether he was just too far away to hear them anymore or whether they’d stopped because the girl—creature! he told himself—could no longer draw breath. He tried not to think of himself as a coward. “I could not help her,” he muttered, then corrected himself again.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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