Page 12 of Marked
I speed up, moving as quick as I dare so as not to draw attention. At the end of the block, the streetlights are beacons after the dark section of roadway. Something cracks, like a twig snapping. Peering over my shoulder, I search the shadows for any sign of a tail.
Empty.
I turn around.
A massive male forms stands under the nearest lamp, ball cap low and a Louisville slugger in his grip.
I stop.
“Come on, Lilah. Did you think we could let you go?”
Twin shadows materialize behind him. One carries a chain, dragging the length over the ground with sparks and hair raising scratching. A soft arc of light flows down the blade of the other.
I turn on my heel and try to go back the other way. More dark shapes bloom from all along the roadside. Surrounding me.
“Don’t do this,” I plead, eyes darting between them. “Let me go. Tell Vic the place was empty when you got there. Hell, I’ll give you my debit card. Whatever you want. Just let me go.”
They step forward. “You know we can’t do that.”
“Please.”
Chain whistles softly through the air before crashing an inch before my toes. I shriek and jump away. There’s a twisted laugh.
I slide my foot back, willing to drop everything and bolt. Anything but this. Solid wood hits an open palm with a slap. My breathing quickens. I try to slow it, to slow the pounding of my pulse in my veins too.
They lunge.
A piercing whistle rips through the air and the nearest male falls to the pavement. The slim, onyx handle of a blade protrudes from his chest. Another male drops to the cracked pavement behind him, legs giving out like they suddenly have no bones.
There’s a dark flapping, like wings. A midnight-clad figure drops from atop the empty house behind them, leather coat flaring in the draft. The low tugged hood covers his face, but the breadth of the shoulders alone screams man. I stare, open mouthed, as he pulls twin pistols from under the folds of his coat and fires into the masses. His head turns to me. “Run.”
That rasping bellow is too familiar for me not to notice.
The dark-eyed vampire.
Not waiting to ask why he is saving me again, I turn on my heel and dive through a side yard. The duffel no longer seems heavy as my arms pump at my sides. In fact, I can’t feel it at all. I run through the derelict shrubbery and duck under a broken fence before climbing out into an empty junkyard.
Towering cars and mountains of metal and rust rise high into the dark sky. Lungs heaving, I take the farthest path and hope it leads the hell away from here.
Chapter 7
Ruin
Every damn bullet finds its home in flesh, and bodies litter the roadway. It won’t be long before someone realizes what the shots are, and every fucking second my ears burn as I wait for the fucking sirens to ruin my night again.
I try not to think of the girl. Or the duffel over her shoulder and the fact she was running. Or why. I pull the trigger and another thug drops with no left leg to support him.
Her fear was like pepper in my nose, dropping my fangs despite feeding less than twenty minutes ago.
Fuckers came after her.
But was it to keep her from talking about what she knows? Or to bring her back into the fold?
I step closer and stomp my size fourteen boot into the bleeding side of the nearest supe. He screams. My finger flexes, and the bullet rips into the meat of his shoulder. He tries to roll away, groaning as he holds his injuries. I dig my heel in.
“Your boss is pretty fucking stupid,” I hiss from between clenched teeth. “Even with human weapons, the whole area reeks ofother. Sloppy. Very sloppy.”
He moans piteously.
