Page 29 of Silverproof Damsel

Ruger adjusted me in his arms as Winchester shouted out orders to everyone. Luckily, this was her element. Within seconds, the screams of those who’d begun the assault littered the air.

“Nyx?” My words were swallowed by the fighting occurring around us. My arm shot out towards Nyx’s motionless frame as a bloodcurdling scream burst from my parted lips.

“Get her inside, Ruger. Now!” Winchester snapped, forcing him to pull me away from her.

“Nyx!” I cried as my fingers brushed her arm but moved farther from her as Ruger lifted me in his arms, rushing inside the chateau. “No! No! You can’t leave her out there. Save her, Ruger!”

“Enough!” Winchester snapped sharply. “You are bleeding and my priority right now.”

“This is my fault,” I whispered weakly. Ruger placed me gently on the ground, just inside the entrance.

“This isn’t on you, Remi. You didn’t ask for them to hunt you,” he assured, kneeling beside me as he unholstered his weapon.

“If I hadn’t come back to this place or got knocked up by Rhys, this wouldn’t be happening right now.” Tears ran down my face as grief sliced through me.

“Well, shit. When you put it that way, it’s harder for me to argue in your defense. Do not move. Do you hear me? I’m going to grab your bestie before she can bleed out on the porch. Stay awake. Tell me you hear me on this one or she can water the wood with her blood.”

“Please don’t die, Ruger,” I warned, uncertain I wanted him to leave me alone right now.

“I’m pretty hard to kill, little sister.”

Spots, like lights spreading throughout a carnival, sparkled in and out of my vision. Everything around me spun like I’d stepped off of solid ground onto the merry-go-round.

The pungent, acidic scent of copper assaulted my nostrils. Glancing down at the soft green sweater I’d slipped on after bathing, I trembled. Crimson splatter covered the front of the shirt, proof of what had transpired.

The more I tried to move, the faster the room spun. My eyes refused to adjust to the whirling of the world around me. Closing them, I tried to block out the whirring of sounds.

Several more shots rang out as shards from the doorframe littered the floor. Clapping my hands over my ears, I slowly inhaled, then released it. Repeating it several times, I fought against the reality of what was occurring right now.

Something touched my leg, forcing my eyes to open, revealing a dark, shadowy figure standing over me. My lips parted as I fought to release a scream, but nothing escaped as darkness sliced its icy, cruel talons into my mind. It forced consciousness to flee from my grasp.

Chapter Eleven

Excruciatingagonyseizedmeviolently from the darkness. Intense pain wracked through my shoulder. Hands tightened on my legs and arms, holding me in place. My back arched as an ear-piercing scream slid from my lungs, rolling off my tongue.

Jesus, rice on saltine crackers! Fighting against the hands holding me against a cold, smooth surface, I recalled how I’d be on it, or why someone wanted to shred the flesh from my bones.

“Hold her down!” A female’s voice screamed. The voice sounded far away. As if the owner of it stood on the far side of a tunnel, calling out.

“She’s burning up,” a second person replied, this one male.

“She can’t possibly have a fever yet,” a different voice argued.

How many of these assholes were helping debone me? Tears escaped to trail over my face. My screams didn’t stop. They wouldn’t, either. The agony was too much to ignore.

It felt as if something inside of me was struggling to break through my flesh. Fighting against their hold became my onlycoherent thought. I fought to escape the cruel hands endlessly torturing me.

“Distract her, Savage!”

Winchester?

Why would she want to help my captors?

This was either a twisted fucking nightmare, or my family had betrayed me. Everything felt wrong. The coppery tang from my cracked and broken lips tasted acidic against the dryness of my mouth. It felt like someone had curb stomped my face into the blistering sands of Death Valley during a summer drought.

Music started beside me. It caused discordant thumping to pound in my ears. The cover for‘Let You Down’(Piano version)by Tommee Profitt whirred through the room. The soothing sound of fingers moving over the piano traveled through me.

It took too much effort to concentrate on the song, as well as everything happening around me. Succumbing to the notes of the piano as fingers stroked keys forced me to relax against the hard surface I’d been placed on.

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