Page 98 of The Monster of Hotel No. 7
I blink open my eyes and wonder if I will awake back in the bed up in the Attic, like I did from the dream of the snake.
Duplicity.
But it’s not on my side tonight.
“Where the fuck are they?” the same deep voice from before growls.
Then Fleet, bless his high little heart, streaks across the dining room in the darkness, inserting himself into the glow of the light and drawing attention away from us. At the same time, Maude leans in toward me, the sweet scent of the punch filling my nose.
She says, very quietly as chaos descends on chasing Fleet, “There’s another stairwell, it leads further down, then ascends up, to the back street. I know you’re both here for a reason, and I know he isn’t really going to kill you. I saw the scars on his throat, at the table.” She sounds as if she’s speaking through tears with those words, and I realize I have severely misjudged her. “Get past them, past the door you entered through down here. It’s in the corner, flush with the wall.Get the fuck out of my shop.”
She doesn’t have to tell us twice.
As the flashlight swipes across the room in a haphazard arc, trying to catch sight of Fleet, who is now jumping up onto the table and sprinting across it, dishes crashing and shattering to the floor in his chaos, I pull away from Maude, Elliot, Alivia, and Cosmo.
I don’t say goodbye to any of them. Especially not myfriend.
My hand is in Sullen’s, and I tug him along, toward the stairwell that leadsup,as the shadows of men and women from Writhe—I catch a glimpse of them dressed in tactical gear, all in black—try to reach for Fleet.
We’ll have to run behind them.
It’s the only way.
And as we draw nearer, a random spear of light illuminates the green travel bag I packed. My heart lurches; my nice dress is in there and I want to reach for it, but I know we don’t have much time.
I keep running, Sullen behind me as I move forward unseeing in the darkness. Something crunches under my Vans and I almost trip; glass, from the wine glasses Fleet and the tact team have destroyed. But Sullen’s hand grips mine tightly, his body a solid force to take my haphazard weight as I right myself.
Despite all of this shit we’re in, I can’t help the smile on my face.
Fleet is still flailing around on the table, a sacrifice for all of us as he laughs hysterically, and I want to kiss his blond head, but there’s no time for that.
We’re passing the stairwell entrance, I’m lunging toward the corner of the dining room, my right hand grazing the wall, feeling for the exit, my left hand in Sullen’s gloved one.
But all at once, a body slams into mine, slamming me forcefully into the wall.
I bite down to keep from crying out as a masculine voice says,“Gotcha,”in my ear, and hands come around my shoulder cap, jerking me out of Sullen’s grip. Whoever it is smells like the rain outside mingled with sweat, and they don’t have a flashlight, because they aren’t illuminating anything of me or them.
I dig my fingers against the wall, as if I could hold on that way, but my nails flex and several break instead, sending a searing pain along the tops of my fingertips. I ignore it, attempting to lunge ahead, clawing with both hands now.
“I’ve got one!” the man who is trying to haul me backward says. He wrenches hard on my shoulder blade andthatis a pain that’s not so easy to disregard. The ache is deep, throbbing, like something has been twisted the wrong way, and a sharp scream tears unwillingly from my lips.
The manlaughs.
Rage and shame and pain all collide inside my body as I scramble at the wall and another hand fists my hair, jerking my head backward, tendrils of my bun yanked from the hairband.
The bright agony tears at my scalp, then the man pressesdown,forcing me to my knees.
I drop my hands on instinct, to keep my balance.
I feel the haphazard shards of glass beneath my palms the moment before I register the sting in my skin.Fuck.
But I can’t lift my hands because the man is pressing his knee into my back, keeping me down. I’m scrambling over the ground, trying to push up to my feet, but with his hand in my hair and the weight of his body concentrated on my spine, I can’t get up. My palms slide over more glass and tears sting the back of my eyes. I can feel blood warm on my skin and I don’t know where Sullen is and I don’t—
I hear athud,like a fist colliding with someone’s face.
I’m released, all at once as my attacker grunts and stumbles away from me. Then someone is yanking me to my feet, hand around my upper arm, the injured one. I don’t cry out, though. I know it’s Sullen and he doesn’t know I’m hurt.
I get to my feet as he shoves me along while still gripping me tightly.
