Page 141 of Lady Killer

Still, he came after me.

My back hit the wall as he descended on me, grabbing first my ankle, then my aching knee as he pulled me toward him. I kicked out violently but it was no use.

“Youu . . .” His words were slurred as he crawled on top of me.

Even though his movements were sluggish, he was able to use his size to dominate me.

“fuuckkkking . . .”

The sheep straddled me and wrapped two hands around my throat, a terrifying amount of strength left in them. Squeezing, he choked the air from my lungs as I clawed him.

Despite being drugged and tased, he was still lucid enough to continue to strangle me, his much larger frame pinning me in place. There was nothing I could do to dislodge him.

He squeezed even tighter and my vision began to flicker. Time seemed to slow down.

I swiped clumsily at the cheap plastic mask, needing to see my killer’s face if this was to be my last moment on earth. The sheep tried to pull away, but with his hands around my neck, there was little he could do to stop me.

Recognition shocked my system.

“biiiiii—‍”

Michael slumped over me, his fingers still clutching my throat, neither loosening nor tightening.

Light suddenly flooded my senses.

“Luz!”

The weight pinning me down was suddenly flung off, and the hands around my throat sent me wrenching forward. My battered palms collided with the floor, barely catching me before I face-planted.

“Careful!”

Another voice filled the room.

Strong arms swept me up, gently placing me on the bed.

I whimpered.

“I need to check you over, petite diablesse.” Soft lips feathered my forehead as fingers stroked my neck.

“Is he . . . ?” My voice was unrecognizable to me as a deep fatigue started to pull me under.

“Yes, my love. You did it.”

The world went black.

The scents of cinnamon and smoke wrapped around me like a cocoon.

My eyes were too heavy to open yet, but all around me the world was warm and soft.

“You cut it too close.” A voice rasped above me.

I wanted to stay in the safety of the darkness longer, but the heat of their body acted like a beacon guiding me back to the land of the living.

Blue eyes, dark like the ocean crashing during a storm, stared down at me. Only now they looked . . . haunted.

A fine white scar visible only to those who knew to look for it confirmed my suspicions.

“Nixon?” I croaked.

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