Page 37 of A Drop of Anguish
I stand slowly and take careful steps backward. His attention darts to the vial in my hand then to my face and back. My fingers are shaking. My right hand aches from the potion ricochet.
The look in the wolf’s eyes promises pain. And he knows what my potion does. He’s going to go for it quickly. I just don’t know what I can do to stop him from getting it.
An idea pops into my mind, and I act on it immediately. I quickly grab another potion, and I throw it into the empty hall beyond. The red wolf ducks, ears back, expecting some unknown effect. Nothing happens, but I hadn’t expected it to.
I leap at the wolf, stunning potion in hand, but he twists so fast I couldn’t even pretend to see it coming. His jaws latch onto my forearm.
I scream, back arched. The potion hits the ground. The vial cracks and leaks out in spurts. The wolf’s teeth carve through my skin, and soon the potion isn’t the only liquid pooling on the stone floor.
The wolf whips me down. My back slams onto the stone floor, and I can’t help the pathetic whimper. I can’t manage to pull enough air into my stressed lungs. My head throbs. Sharp pain shoots through my arm.
I can’t think. Can’t move.
I don’t know how he changed so quickly, but the next thing I know, Jimmy’s cruel face is over mine, back in his human form. His hands are on either side of my head, and he smiles down at me, revealing those sharp teeth, dripping blood.
I reach for my last possible weapon. My hand is barely strong enough to even pull the dagger free from the sheath on my thigh.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he growls.
I scream as his teeth carve into the flesh at the base of my neck.
17
I Bite Back
Iscream.
Pressure and pain and warmth running down my arm, are my only sensations.
All thought escapes my mind, and there is only the force of the shifter’s teeth digging deep into my muscles and veins and ligaments.
The world spins.
There is snarling and whining and a howl so full of sorrow it actually makes me sad. There is something warm and slick beneath me.
Blood.
Mine?I wonder.
My vision flickers in and out of focus. Above me grey stone lines the curved ceiling in a corkscrew pattern. When my vision blurs and whirls, it’s almost like they’re dancing.
Weight leaves my chest, but I can’t move.
Someone is talking. He’s frantic. Panicked.
“Candice!” I finally hear.
I try to respond, but it only comes out in a mumble. Why won’t my lips work? Maybe because my lungs aren’t working.
“We have to go,” Thompson says, voice raw. Pained. Is he hurt too? “More wolves will come.”
Go.That I can agree with. I want to get away from the sticky slick blood under me.
I’m lifted and somehow find my feet. I shuffle forward. As we walk, more and more of my mind clears. Thompson has his arm under me, supporting me as we walk up the spiraling steps out of Under Hall.
“What happened?” I finally manage. I remember the wolves. The attack.
Then—
