Chapter 50

"You know the thing to remember about the Varúlfur, Megan?" Harper said talking to me but not wrenching his eyes away from Rick. "They're pack creatures at heart. Unstoppable as a group; not so effective when on their own." He tossed the knife over which landed with a clunk at my feet and I quickly retrieved it, watching the Varúlfur warily as I bent down. Reaching inside his jacket, Harper withdrew another blade, slightly smaller than the one I now held, but still with that vicious jagged edge capable of cutting through the toughest of flesh. The creature stopped clutching at the seeping wound in its back and it hunched over slightly, its amber eyes narrowing to slits and darting from Harper then back to me. It grinned, but I could hear its harsh short breaths and saw that its great muscular chest was pumping harder than it had before. Harper took a step to the right and then another, his feet barely making a sound as he carefully manoeuvred so that the Varúlfur was betwe