Page 6 of Bloody Kingdom

“Are you lost?” the man holding me spits at the new man. “This doesn’t concern you. I recommend you get back into that fancy car of yours and mind your business.”

The silhouette’s head shakes slowly. “I recommend you let the lady go.”

That voice…Something about it is so familiar.

“Why would I do that?”

“You’re already not making it out of this dirty alleyway alive,” the new arrival answers, a slightly amused tone in his voice. Almost as if he knows something the rest of us don’t. “There’s no need for you to make your last seconds more painful than they should be.”

“What in the hell are you rambling on about?”

“You have your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you,” the shadowy figure calmly states. “And you’re going to pay for making her bleed.”

My attacker’s head tilts back, a sardonic laugh escaping from between his dry, cracked lips. “That’s where you’re wrong. Her pretty ass belongs to my boss.”

A low, ominous snarl fills the alleyway, bouncing off the brick walls surrounding us. My eyes dart around the space, looking for the source, but I can’t find anything. The sound dies off and is followed by a quickwhoosh.

Something moves behind the man so fast my eyes can only see the briefest blur. I check that the man standing in the headlights is still there, and I find he hasn’t moved an inch.

“Not anymore,” a haunting voice resonates from somewhere in the shadows. The voice sends chills down my spine and goose bumps spread across my skin.

Abruptly, my attacker’s black eyes go wide, and an almost inaudible gasp escapes him. His hand that hasn’t once loosened its grip on my face slowly slides off my jaw as he stumbles backward.

He staggers away, his hands tearing at his chest. Following his movements, I find the white T-shirt he wears under his dark hoodie is growing dark, deep crimson blood blossoming from a wound.

When did he get hurt?Howdid he get hurt?

On pure instinct, I shift forward, ready to help the man, but as my shaking hand reaches for him, I pause. He gasps and gargles on his blood while his eyes meet mine. He can’t speak, but I see his silent cry for help written across his face. But still, I stay frozen in place. My touch won’t save him anyway.

I still don’t move as he falls, landing harshly against the stone ground. I don’t look away as the blood pools around his body and his chest grows still.

In pain and on shaky feet, I finally slowly start backing away from the deceased man. Movement to my left jerks my head in that direction. The large silhouette moves toward me.

“Please,” I beg, holding up my hand to halt him. “Please just let me go, I won’t say anything.”

He doesn’t stop, his steps only become more purposeful as he stalks closer. “Sorry darlin’,” his smooth southern voice drawls. “I can’t do that.”

Finally, his face comes into view and my whole body turns to stone, halting in my sluggish escape. “Duke?” Lucy’s friend comes into view; his ruggedly handsome features are pulled tight, almost pained. “Duke, what are you doing?” I stammer.

I back away from him, farther down the alleyway. My ankle and face are screaming at me in agony, and my heart slams against my chest. The adrenaline pumping in my veins makes my whole body shake.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Quincey.” Duke raises his hands, showing me they’re empty, void of any weapon. “Please don’t run.”

“I don’t believe you.” I shake my head, causing my hair to stick to my sweaty and bloody face.

I know he’s expecting me to do it, I’m almost positive he saw it in my face before I moved, because when I spin away from him, he lunges at me. By some miracle, I evade his grasp and sprint down the alleyway again.

“Quincey!” Duke calls after me, but I still don’t stop.

I’m so focused on Duke behind me and getting as far away from the dead man as I can, that I’m not paying attention to where I’m going.

My body slams against a body that feels as if it’s made of stone. Strong hands grip my upper arms before I can stumble back and fall. My yelp of surprise dies on my tongue when I’m instantly pulled tight against a hard chest. With wild, unfocused eyes, I tilt my head to take in the new man’s face, but all I can make out in the shadows are the sharp angles of jaw and cheekbones.

“Who—” I start to ask, but the rest of the words never come because the sharp bite of a needle in my neck silences them. My vision becomes hazy and my limbs heavy as the drug invades my system.

The hands that hold my arms shift and I feel my body being lifted off the ground. I want to scream for help, but I can’t move. The darkness at the corner of my eyes alerts me of my impending blackout.

“Want me to take her, boss?” I hear Duke ask, his voice sounds like he’s a hundred miles away.

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