Page 30 of The Monster of Hotel No. 7
I don’t want to let her go, and I’m scared there will still be people waiting in the bar. But I don’t protest, and she takes my silence for acquiescence.
Together we stand, ducking low until we step out from the shadows. My arms have fallen away from her and hers from me, but facing the bar entrance door, she reaches behind her, fingers spread wide to take mine.
I reach back, and we hold hands as she pulls me toward the door.
Chapter17
Karia
Slipping past the bar, beyond the lounge, and toward the dark corridor near the bathroom Sullen allegedly left me in is easy. The alarm is still blaring, lights near the ceiling flashing, andno oneis inside Septem.
Idiots.
But just as I think it, I hear the swift footfalls of someone running even over the shrill of the alarm, the moment before a hand latches around my wrist, jerking me apart from Sullen.
My response is immediate. I swing away from them, pivoting my stance as my heart leaps to my throat, but their fingertips dig deeper, crunching against my bones as Sullen releases my other hand.
I catch a glimpse of a man in tactical gear, his face nearly hidden from the stupid Writhe masks the guards wear, and a gun in his free hand, aimed atme.His eyes are narrowed, the barrel of the weapon is only a foot from my face as we stare at one another, and the only thought I have is for Sullen.
This man won’t shoot me, not if he doesn’t want to die himself.
But what will Writhe do to Sullen?
I don’t even look at him. I can sense him, so close to me, just at my back, and I know the guard will have spotted him, but it’s like I’m the hostage here. The negotiating piece. The pressure point.
I want to laugh.
Sullen won’t stay for me.
He better not stay for me.
I jerk my arm away again, wanting to keep the focus on myself, but the man yanks me forward, closer, my feet slipping against the flooring as the lights and sirens seem to tunnel into my skull, taking away some of my panic from having a gun aimed at my head. It’s like the sensory input has masked the more immediate threat, but I don’t care.
Better than trembling at the thought of having my brain blown from my skull.
When the man tugs sharply on me again, pain lances up my arm and an involuntary shriek leaves my lips, lost in the cacophony around us.
A bright burning sensation travels up my forearm at the same time the shadow of Sullen moves.
His hand comes to the man’s wrist, the one holding the gun, and he twists sharply in a move he has either practiced before or had done to him, because immediately, the guard releases me. I stumble back, drawing my hand to my chest, rubbing at my wrist with my fingers, and I am frozen as I watch Sullen move.
The gun falls to the floor with a clatter as the guard pivots, facing Sullen unarmed, his eyes narrowed and body center dropping a little, like he’s getting into a fighting stance. But Sullen still has hold of his wrist, and he tugs him forward at the same time he swings his other arm, hand curled into a fist. He hits the guard in the face and I watch as the man’s head spins to the side, and Sullen doesn’t give him a moment to recover. He hits him again, this time an uppercut, his knuckles driving straight up into the man’s nose. The move causes the man’s chin to lift, exposing his throat, and Sullen takes the opportunity to wrap both hands around his neck.
Sullen’s gloved hands are massive, they circle the guard completely.
I watch in a frozen fascination as blood trails down the man’s nose, slipping into the black mask covering the rest of his face.
He brings his hands up to Sullen’s forearms, trying to get him off, but Sullen stays locked on the guard’s throat, pressing his thumbs into the front, against his windpipe. The guard tries to lunge forward, lifting his knee, but Sullen arches his hips back, protecting his groin.
My mouth feels dry as Sullen stares at the man while he chokes him.
He tries to go for Sullen’s eyes, but Sullen turns his head and the man only scrambles at his face, but I see it. The way he’s weakening. He doesn’t even scratch Sullen.
My pulse races inside my head.
The sirens seem to fade away, over the sound of my own heart beating.
My breaths come in heavy pants as I cradle my wrist that no longer hurts, but it’s like I can’t move at all.
