The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

“What do you mean, ‘not alone’?” I pressed. “She’s a human, not a sobrenatural. A bunch of demons could snatch her on her way to the Cancún airport, or at the gate, or…” I admit it—my brain was in high-alert panic mode. And why did Alana look so calm? It was muy annoying.

Then four words spilled from her mouth that took my panic down a notch. “Rosie is with her.”

Rosie. My perfect, beautiful, faithful hellhound, who could travel like mist. When I saw her again, she for sure was going to get a lifetime supply of snake heads or any other gross thing she wanted.

&

nbsp; “Plus,” Alana went on, “your mom didn’t have to go to Cancún. A helicopter picked her up and took her to a landing strip. She’s now in flight….” She squirmed like she didn’t want to talk about this but knew she didn’t have a choice. “On my dad’s jet. They’re only an hour from Montana.”

Jet. Servants. Mansion. Right. Alana and Adrik acted so chill and down-to-earth I forgot they were rich.

“You have a private plane?” Louie’s eyes bugged out. “Like, a real one?”

Alana’s cheeks brightened. “It’s my dad’s.”

“Can you get us to the ranch your way? Through the portal?” Ren asked Alana, changing the subject and the focus.

Alana smiled gratefully. “If you guys help me,” she said. “Like in the library.”

We all joined hands. Louie squeezed himself in between me and Ren as Alana said, “Think Montana. I’ll do the rest.”

The rest ended up being a side trip to a pizza place. We landed in the kitchen supply closet and all Louie could say was “I tried to think Montana, but I’m hungry and pizza sounded really good.”

“You can eat whatever you want at the ranch. Now focus!” Alana commanded.

The promise of food was enough to get Louie on the same page, because the next thing I knew, we had rolled out of the gateway and smack-dab into a steaming pile of manure.

The good news was we hadn’t landed facedown in the stuff. We all got up and inspected our dirty clothes. The bad news? When we looked around, we saw we were in a cattle pen, facing a thousand-pound-plus bull that looked like he wanted nothing more than to split our guts wide open.

I summoned Fuego to my hand just as Alana said, “Nobody move,” with not a single tremor in her voice. Maybe she was used to bulls? Maybe this was her pet and, like Rosie, he just looked ferocious?

The muscular beast was about ten feet away—too close for comfort. He pawed the dirt and started to rumble and grunt.

Rrrummph. Rrrummph.

“Eek!” Louie squealed.

“Nice bull-y,” Ren purred.

I gripped my cane as we stood frozen in the fenced pasture not sure what to do. I know what you’re thinking: You’ve got amazing Fuego! You’re the son of fire! But I couldn’t just gore the innocent animal or turn him to steak.

The bull glared at us, tossing his head. I quickly threw up a wall of smoke, hoping it would be enough to at least slow him down if he decided to charge.

He decided to charge. And guess what? The smoke only gave us a ten-step lead at best, and the corral’s gate was a good thirty feet away.

“AAAAH!” we screamed, and ran. Have you ever tried to sprint through mud and manure? It’s worse than wet sand. And a whole lot smellier.

“Do something!” Louie screamed.

“Ren, shadow!” I hollered.

Suddenly, the world went still. No sound, no movement, no breeze around us. Just my crashing heart and wheezing breaths.

I came to a stop in my poop-covered shoes, held my side, and turned to Ren. Her watch was glowing.

“Thanks…for…stopping…time,” I said between gasps.

“No way could I sic a monster shadow on the poor thing,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “But sometimes you just have to take the bull by the horns.”