Emille

Chapter 18

 The vuddon was admittedly quite cute. At first glance, it looked like a giant shrew, with its long, pointed snout, fuzzy body and beady eyes. Yes, if Peter hadn't known better he would have called it a dog-sized shrew. Not natural, but not dangerous either. Except for the tail. Where its scaly, straight tail should have been was a luxuriously curling appendage. It stood at attention, coiled tightly against the vuddon's bushy back. Each strand of hair on the tail stood stiff and straight, poofed and at attention. It sensed a disturbance.

A splash erupted near the water's edge. In a flash, the vuddon flicked its tail towards the noise. A volley of stiff, grey hairs soared through the air with deadly precision. The vuddon scuttled over to the shoreline, its nose twitching furiously. The poor leopard frog that had dared move from the safety of the cattails flailed in the mud, vuddon hairs embedded in its pliable skin. The vuddon grabbed it with deadly claws and tore into it with razor sharp teeth. The frog was devoured in seconds. Satisfied, the vuddon ran its hands over its face, clearing it of mud and frog remains.

A mosquito landed on Peter's nose, and he resisted the urge to scream. If he were to breathe a little too loudly, or make even a ripple in the water, their plan would be over before it had even begun. He watched as the dastardly insect sunk its tube-like mouth into Peter's skin and gorged itself on his blood. God, he hated Florida.

He slid his eyes over to Natalia. She sat behind a cypress tree, mud plastered over every inch of exposed skin and axe body spray clutched to her chest like a weapon. Her finger tapped impatiently, and Peter had to drag his eyes away from the motion. The vuddon didn't seem to notice the tapping over the frog chorus filling the air. One of the only good things about living in a swamp was the noise.

The waiting was the hardest part. Peter felt his fingers pruning and his skin growing itchy as the vuddon hunted. It caught a cuban tree frog, a deer mouse, a marsh rabbit, two bats, and a juvenile alligator. Unease crept into Peter's spine at the sight of the alligator. Where there's one baby alligator, there are more baby alligators. And a momma alligator. And Peter was sitting in the water like a chump. He really wished the vuddon would hurry up and finish its hunt.

Peter needed this mission to go smoothly. Time had done little to thaw the iciness between him and Emille. It didn't help that Kim distrusted him so obviously. He'd caught the kimpy staring him down on more than one occasion, and he couldn't get within four feet of Emille without her giant bodyguard coming to her side. He couldn't blame her. He'd been moments from ending her life before she'd even gotten the chance to meet Emille. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a tether. If anything happened to Victor, Peter wouldn't know how to move within the world. It would be like losing a sixth sense.

As if on cue, Victor's smooth voice floated into Peter's mind.

I've let countless mice move by me undisturbed. How much longer must I stay still? I have other obligations, Peter.

Peter looked up at the shadow lurking in the branches above Natalia's head. Its tail twitched impatiently. He nodded sternly at Victor. A clear no.

I don't see Kim or Bubbles putting in this many hours.

Peter cocked an eyebrow. Kim would be easily detected, and Bubbles would be useless. Victor was the only tether fast and stealthy enough for the job. But he knew that. He just liked to complain. Peter wished their communication wasn't one-way.

The vuddon yawned, its teeth gleaming against its dark fur. Victor's tail stopped twitching, and Natalia straightened. This was it. The vuddon stretched, then began digging. It shoved its nose into the ground, breathing deeply and rooting around for its target. Once it settled on a spot, it began digging, its claws pulling up chunks of mud in great heaps.