Page 12 of Ensnared
Blondie’s face lights up. Gordon’s hunched over, moaning, but it’s clear that a ‘bright’ is something they like. It’s what they called me earlier, too.
“What does that mean, exactly?” I doubt they’ll answer, but who knows?
“You’re a bright,” Axel says. “It’s the reason I could ensnare you.”
“Not anymore,” Blondie says. “Now she’s taken, so she’s not pulsing.”
I was pulsing to them? As freaky as it sounds, that must be how the dragon found Mom earlier—it sensed her. “You said I’m supposed to control the local population?”
Axel sighs. “Once you’ve been properly taught, you can force the humans around you to listen to your will. They’ll have no ability to refuse any command you make.”
Goodie. I’m basically Dr. Xavier from the X-Men, only I’m forced labor for the minions of evil. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to pass.”
“You’re going to. . .” Axel strides toward me this time, his hand clenched at his side. “You can’t pass. You’re already caught. That means I control your actions.”
“So I’m just middle management?” I grimace. “I’m not really good at that kind of thing.”
Axel stops less than two feet away from me, his eyes intent, his face grim. “I can force you to do anything.”
“Like what?” I ask. “Like, making me pick up my right arm?” I look down at it. “Because so far, I feel totally normal.”
“Sure, if I wanted to do something that stupid. . .” He frowns. “How did they say they made the humans do what they wanted?”
Gordon’s finally upright again, and through the hole in his stupid, blood-stained tunic, he appears to be completely healed. How did he. . .? Ugh. This umbrella may buy me less time than I hoped. Well, at least Axel seems to know nothing about how to use the leash he supposedly placed around my neck. Or maybe he’s too weak to use it as an earth dragon or whatever.
Who cares as long as I have a chance at escaping them? Any hopes I secretly harbored of staying put in our house are gone. We’ll have to flee immediately. Dad’s car’s probably our only hope. If we can get enough distance between Axel and me, maybe he won’t be able to do a thing.
I gather my resolve, and then I strike immediately and without warning, pulling on my years of kendo, and shove the end of the umbrella right into the prince’s throat. I immediately collapse to my knees, my hands losing their grip on the handle. Blood gushes from the place where the umbrella punctured his throat, pouring down his neck and soaking his clothing, but otherwise he looks entirely fine.
Meanwhile, I can’t breathe.
My throat isn’t working either.
I can’t swallow. . .or drag in a scrap of a breath.
“What—” I wheeze with the last of my air.
Axel sighs, which shouldn’t even be possible with something jammed through his windpipe, and yanks the umbrella out of his own throat. The spray of gore eclipses that from Gordon and the stick, and most of it hits me. “You can’t kill me,” he says, blood burbling from his throat, his words emerging in the most macabre surround sound ever. “You’d die long before I would.”
Because of our connection.
Unlike his friend, he doesn’t hunch over or groan or even whimper. He tilts his head, coughs a few times, and his body just repairs itself in front of me. As it does, my throat stops hurting too. My lungs suddenly draw a much-needed breath. The spots that were swimming in front of my eyes dissipate slowly.
“It may be hard to process that your life’s no longer your own,” Axel says. “I don’t really care. Stop fighting me before I get annoyed.”
Annoyed?
An umbrella through his throat was annoying? I wonder how he’d feel if. . .it occurs to me that I may not be able to kill him before dying myself in the attempt, but I do have another leverage point. A sharper one. “My death would incapacitate you. That one said so.” I point.
“What now?” he asks.
“I’ll kill myself.” I crouch down and grab the discarded, blood-soaked umbrella. “Unlike you, I can’t magically heal.” I tap the front of my neck, just off center. “This right here is the jugular vein. In humans, it generates enough blood flow that piercing it will kill us in a very short period of time. If I ram this umbrella into my own jugular, I’ll die, and you won’t be able to stop it.” I hold the end of the umbrella, comfortingly sticky and disgusting, against my neck. “You might not die, but I bet being incapacitated for a few days would be a real problem for you, especially right now when some of us humans are fighting back.”
Axel frowns. “It would be inconvenient.”
“Can dragons be trusted?”
His brows draw together. “What does that mean?”
