Page 11 of Refrain

If good ol’ Vlad isn’t already in hell, he’s well on his way there.

“We’ve gotta get the fuck out of here,” the blue-eyed man says.

We?My tongue feels too heavy to question. I’m too heavy. My body reacts solely on autopilot to take the hand he’s extending toward me. One yank has me on my feet, and he rips something from my back—the wings—and drops them onto the floor. Behind him, the door swings on its hinges. Chaos issues from the hallway. Shouting. Vlad’s name echoes in different voices. Far away. Closer. Then closer…

“Hey!” Someone snaps his fingers.

My brain sputters back to life. I focus on his face and notice the pink lips moving in tandem. Saying something. Shouting something.

“Come on!”

We’re in a hallway now. Or more like Blue Eyes is, dragging me along after him. It smells. Acrid. Sharp. Like smoke. It’s darker as well. The pounding bass has cut off, revealing a cacophony of shouting in its place. Screaming.

“Fuck!”

A metallic clang draws my attention over Blue Eyes’ shoulder. He’s standing before a fire exit, slamming his hand against the door. It’s locked and chained from the other side to thwart any brave girl who might get the idea in her head to escape.

“I know a way.” My voice sounds too thick. I blink again, and the world drifts in and out of focus.

“Where?” He hooks his palm beneath my chin when I don’t answer quickly enough. “Come on. Think! Where?”

I blink again. Twice. Three times. Shadows flicker beyond him. Vlad’s men.

“This way.” I turn back toward Piotr’s room, my old cage.

I used to study every inch of the four enclosed walls. I bet Icould still find every trace of old blood, every stain I left behind. He’s here, weighing me down even now as I stagger toward his private bathroom. My foot strikes something I didn’t expect, and I nearly trip over it. Something heavy. Human.

“This way?”

Blue Eyes is too fast. He muscles me forward, already catching on to our only chance for escape—the window placed right above the Jacuzzi-style bathtub. Apart from the ventilation, I think Piotr enjoyed the power that came with dangling what appeared to be an easy escape before his victims.

“You have to break the glass.” The words trickle out of me.

I don’t know if Blue Eyes heard them or if he’s already come to that conclusion himself. He lunges across the tiled flooring, and the next second, a waist-height vase meets the glass’s frosted surface.

Then I’m aware of fresh air and chaos. Sirens wail above the general clamor of traffic, and an icy wind nips at every inch of bare skin—though I’m not anywhere near as cold as I should be. A glance down reveals why. Someone dressed me in a black button-down shirt long enough to reach the tops of my knees. When? I can’t remember.

“Hey.”

A firm shake on my shoulder drags my attention to the man standing beside me. His torso is bare; it’s his shirt I’m wearing. Lean muscle flexes with tension, betraying the strength his lanky frame disguises. That’s not all. A tattoo spans the width of his chest. It’s new, the skin still peeling around the edges. Eight letters mark his flesh, etched there in black ink. Something so odd that I have to read it twice.

M U R D E R E R

“We need to move,” he says.

We must be in an alley. It reeks of trash. Slick wetness crushes underneath my bare feet, but I don’t even have the strength to shiver in disgust. It’s like Vlad took a piece of me with him tohell. I laugh, the harsh sound clashing with the gruff voice cutting over me.

“Stay with me.”

How? I’m not Chloe anymore. She’s lost…

It’s only when I glance at my body in an effort to find traces of her again that I realize that the blood covering me isn’t Vladimir’s. Not all of it. It drips, forming a morbid symphony that echoes off the brick walls of two nearby buildings.You’re in shock,a part of me declares. I’ll bleed out soon enough. Minutes maybe.

“Hey!” He shakes me again.

But I don’t have the resistance to withstand the motion. My head goes back and forth.

“Shit!”

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