Page 100 of Bitten & Burned
Not the crew either.
Definitely not Anton.
I didn’t even have time to turn around.
A pair of strong arms encircled my waist, yanking me back. The scent hit me immediately—sweat and blood, smoke and rot. No leather, no soap, no trace of the men I trusted.
On instinct, my fingers extended, as I tried in vain to access the magic I’d not been able to reach in ages. My back arched as a shiver of sensation jolted through my fingertips. It was more than I’d gotten since that night months before.
My victory was short-lived, however. I was spun hard, forced to face three people.
Not monsters. Not exactly. But their eyes were wrong—dilated wide. Their grins were too wide, their breathing was too loud. They looked high. Wired, like violence was already pumping through their blood, and they didn’t care to stop it. Their clothes were wet and mangled, hair a mass of knots. And the smell.
Inera, help me. The smell was awful.
I couldn’t even register genders. Just limbs and breath and eyes fixed entirely on me.
I kicked. Screamed.
“No!”
The one holding me barely flinched.
“That her?” rasped the one infront.
The one behind me didn’t answer. Just inhaled, like he was trying to suck me up into his nose.
My skin crawled.
“Thought so,” the one holding me muttered. “Could smell her stink from the shore. Where is it?”
I thrashed again, jabbing my elbow into ribs and clawing at the arms locked around me. My fingernails bit into skin, and I felt flesh give.
There was a sharp gasp behind me—then, suddenly, I was dropped, hitting the floor hard.
“What happened?” the raspy one barked. “Why’d you let go of her? Don’t just stand there—grab her! I need to see the mark. Make sure she’s ours.”
I tried to scramble, but my knee slammed into the edge of the bed frame. Sheets tangled my feet, and then a hand clamped around my ankle, yanking me back. I shrieked, clawing at the floorboards.
“Stop it, stop!” I kicked backward wildly, trying to connect with something—anything.
“She’s feisty,” giggled the one behind me—a woman, judging by the pitch, her laughter sharp and high. “I can’t hold her and check her, you’ll have to.”
“It’s all that vampire blood she’s got in her,” said Raspy. “Makes ‘em crazy.”
A massive hand gripped my leg. I was hauled upright. I went limp, dead weight in his arms, just to make him work for it.
“Fuckin’ bloodbanger,” he snarled. He didn’t even speak to me directly. He leaned in, squinting at me like I was some artifact. “You marked up, bitch?”
I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.
So I spat in his face.
He growled; the sound was deafening. Then his hand cracked across my cheek so hard my head spun. My ears rang, my mouth flooded with the taste of copper.Blood.
He hit me.
Hehitme.
