Desperation takes over, manifesting itself as anger.
“Mason! Snap out of it!” I shout again, and urgency seems to jerk the trance out of him. He leaps forward, snatching at flinching limbs, and with a hand around its throat, a knee on its torso and his other arm shoving at its legs, pins the body down. He is muttering a word under his breath, over and over again, like an incantation, and it isn’t a pretty word. Neither is it helping – the deities he is swearing to or at seem deaf, or are somewhere out there mocking our desperation.
Then in one sudden, stifled second, my ears buzzing with the pulse of blood, the body goes limp.
“Get your hand away from her mouth!”
The gasping, ugly words have hardly left my throat when the eyes, white and glazed, snap open. It lunges forward.
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