Rites of Passage Read Free

for an elf, but that was it.
    Finn and his buddies and everyone else he knew was human. Plain old regular people without an ounce of magical ability.
    Not like the man fighting the monster.
    This guy jumped higher and faster than Finn thought a regular person could. Each sweep of his sword looked effortless. He did the kind of martial arts moves Finn had only seen in the movies. He wouldn’t have even seemed human except for the sheen of sweat on his bald head.
    The creature didn’t sweat. Instead it puffed out huge clouds of breath in the chill night air. It didn’t look like a dragon exactly, even though Finn was pretty sure what he’d thought was rough skin was really scales, but those steamy breaths reminded him of smoke.
    Could this creature breathe fire?
    If it could, how cool was that!
    Finn forgot all about how he needed to get home before his parents noticed he wasn’t there. He forgot about his buddies. He even forgot about the girl he’d been thinking about asking out.
    He felt like his entire world—the real world, not the world of movies or textbooks or things that happened to someone else’s dad—had just gotten bigger.
    It was the most exciting thing Finn had ever felt.
    Which was why, he told himself later, he didn’t think twice about jumping into the middle of the fight when the creature knocked the man flat on his back and his sword went flying.
    And landed right at Finn’s feet.

 
     
     
     
     
    3
     
    The goblins could have killed Finn several times over by now. He had no defense against bullets. The fact that he was still alive meant they were playing with him.
    Like a cat playing with a mouse.
    Finn didn’t like being a mouse, but at the moment he didn’t have much of a choice.
    The goblins had pinned him down against the front wall of the processing plant, where he was in clear view from the goblins’ position at the back of the plant. Bullets struck the concrete floor in front of him every time he tried to move. His shoulder throbbed where he’d been shot. His arm on that side—thankfully not his sword arm—was useless, and his head felt wobbly.
    He’d never been shot before, but he’d been hurt enough over the years to know his body was going into shock. Even if he could get away from the wall, he wouldn’t be able to run very fast, if at all.
    Add to that the fact that the interior of the plant offered exactly zero places to hide, and Finn knew he was in the worst position he’d ever been in since he’d become a Guardian.
    He could very well die here tonight, and all because he hadn’t simply killed the creep the moment he’d walked into the processing plant and been done with it.
    He closed his eyes for a moment. Thinking about what ifs really would get him killed.
    He had to center his mind on the here and now.
    Had to get the job done.
    Somehow.
    At least he didn’t have to be quiet. The goblins knew exactly where he was.
    “You invited your friends to the party?” Finn asked the creep.
    “Happy coincidence,” the creep said.
    Finn didn’t believe it. The creep had been counting on the goblins to show up. That’s why it had been biding its time.
    He’d been stupid, all right.
    His master had been stupid, too, the night he’d died.
    The creep stood up and crushed the remains of its last cigarette beneath one massive foot. It lumbered to the nearest window and began to etch a circle in the filthy glass with its claws.
    The sound grated on Finn’s nerves. Worse than fingernails on a chalkboard because he knew exactly what the creep was doing.
    It was creating a portal for its master.
    Finn had to figure out a way to stop it.
    The sound of a heavy body smacking against concrete drew his attention away from the creep.
    The goblins were coming through the windows at the rear of the plant.
    Finn had never liked goblins. Their greenish-gray skin looked diseased. Their feet and hands were too big for their bodies. Their over-sized, pointed ears stuck out like bat wings