Page 159 of Bitten & Burned
Grinning. A mouth full of rotted teeth. Skin flaking and crusted with grime. Eyes yellowed and bloodshot. Wildly looking around. Moving too fast. He was close enough that I could see the blood dried beneath his nostrils, the sores blooming across his cheek.
He looked at his companion and nodded. Like I was a prize hog at auction.
Hell of a time for my ears to pop. The world came rushing back in just in time to hear him croon, “Bloodbound, bloody little bride. She’s ours. You’re ours now.”
The other one laughed. It was high and twitchy. His hands slid under my skirts, pushing them up. Ripping my stockings until my legs were bare.
His touch was greedy. Probing. Getting bolder the higher he reached.
I writhed, shrieking, trying to claw the hand from my hair. My nails caught on skin—he yelped—but it earned me a backhand across the face so hard it made the world tilt.
White noise. Pain. My cheek throbbed, jaw slack. I tasted blood—mine.
“Gettin’ warm now,” the second one giggled. His fingers wrapped around my thigh, thumb pressing into the sigil like he knew.
Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t move. My limbs wouldn’t listen.
“Rellin,” the second one muttered, glancing behind them. “We should get out first. If we stay to play with her now, the vamps are gonna catch us.”
“Shut up,” Rellin snapped, not taking his eyes off me. “They ain’t comin’. They’re busy with the others. House full’a bloodsuckers and not one’a them knows she’s gone yet.”
He leaned closer, breath rancid. “They can’t hear her scream in here. The ruckus they’re makin’ in there is too loud. By the time they realize, we’ll be long gone, on our way back to the Doc.”
His hand slid to my inner thigh. My whole body bucked in protest.
“We can do whatever we want to her pretty little hide.”
I could feel the other one smile. I felt it—greasy and foul—pressed to my cheek like an oil stain, the heat of his breath sticky against my skin.
“Please… no,” I whimpered. It was all I could manage. A breath. A prayer.
“‘Please no’,” Rellin echoed, his voice curling into a high, mocking falsetto. Then he dropped it low and mean, spitting the words like bile. “Shut up, bloodwhore.”
His grip on my thigh tightened. His other hand tangled deeper in my hair. “I know what you are. You let thosebloodsuckers rut around on you like a bitch in heat. Bet you moan for ‘em, don’t you? Bet you open your legs and beg.”
The other one chuckled, pressing his crotch into my side. I gagged.
“You let ‘em do whatever they want,” Rellin continued, voice growing more fevered with every word. “You should be pleased as punch to have a real man want you.”
His hand moved again. Fingers worming under my skirt, yanking it higher.
“Stop—please—” I choked, throat raw, trying to twist away.
Rellin leaned down, his cracked lips brushing my ear. “Nah. No more beggin’. You had your turn. Now it’s ours.”
And that’s when I heard it.
A voice—not mine—deep and low and furious. A growl more than words. Then: a snap. A crack. A wet, choking gurgle.
And Rellin gasped. His grip loosened. Then his body was gone.
Ripped away so fast it took my breath with it.
A scream—cut short.
And when I blinked up through tear-blurred eyes, I saw him.
Anton.
