Red
I can't seem to take my eyes off of Logan. No! I feel like I was going to puke my guts out. The smell of blood and death is overwhelming.
Logan. I had been trying to keep him alive. Despite what he did to me, it shouldn't have ended this way.
“Now where is that toxin?” she mumbles, searching the floor of the tiny room.
I shuffle my feet slowly while leaning against the wall. My chance of getting out of here is pretty slim, but I'm going to keep trying.
“Ahhhh... there it is,” she exclaims, standing over Logan's still figure. She picks up his bloody arm and I can see Logan's hand still tightly gripping the syringe. She pries the needle off his stiff, broken fingers.
I almost weep when I see that it's empty. Logan must have squirted it all out before Milan attacked him.
“Damn it!” She hurls the syringe across the room. She's about to kick his unmoving body but changed her mind when she notices the pool of blood gathering around it. Probably thinking about her precious Louboutins.
I hear footsteps approaching closer and the putrid smell is almost overwhelming. It overpowers even the smell of blood and death in this room.
2, 3, 5....I count the footsteps, trying to determine how many men are there. 10, 15...about 15 or 16 men.
“It really doesn't matter anymore. You're not going anywhere now.” She smirks at me.
“He's going to be here soon. Constantine is going to get here before you go anywhere and he's going to kill you. All my pack mates are coming after you,” I growl.
She seems unconcerned. “Oh, they're not going to be here for a while. The sun might already set by the time they get here. You'll be long dead, and I'll be long gone.
“You see, I planned everything perfectly. They're following your scent, and right now they're on their way to Lake Michigan. Totally the opposite direction, darling.” she says proudly. “We have plenty of time.”
We hear footsteps approaching, and Milan scrunches her nose prettily and glances at the open doorway.
Right on cue, a half-naked, big burly man appears in the doorway. He looks scruffy with a long tangled mass of blond hair. A long scar runs from the top of his eyebrow, barely missing his eye, all the way down his cheek and disappears behind his mustache and beard. His dark blue eyes are wild and cold. He is shirtless, and his black pants are dirty and torn. He is big muscled, and his skin is heavily tanned. So heavily tanned that it's darker than his hair. Scars decorated his torso as well.
He is a werewolf, of that I'm sure. Is he a rogue? I've never seen one before. I had been living a very sheltered life as a werewolf, I realize.
“You're very late!” snaps Milan.
“Look at what we found,” he gruffly says instead and steps in.
Another half-dressed man fills out the doorway, holding Mia in front of him. She tries to fight him, but the man easily shoves her into the room with one hand holding both her arms back and another gripping her hair in a very tight hold. He is almost as big as the first one and as equally dirty. His greasy, long, jet black hair almost reaches his waist, and dark mustache and beard are covering half his face.
“You bitch!” Mia spits. “You crazy, double-crossing bitch!!!!”
She yelps when the man yanks her hair back.
Milan just ignores her outburst, but a cold, calculating smile is playing on her lips.
I almost gag at the smell when both men entered the tiny windowless room. Their wild eyes survey the room and quickly zero in on me. Mia gasps when she notices Logan's body at the corner, then she breaks down into loud sobs. Both men stare at me with interest. I fight down another urge to puke.
“Is that part of our payment too?” asks the dark-haired man above the sound of Mia's howling. The blond guy looks like he's close to licking his lips.
“No. She is your job. I want her dealt with immediately,” Milan instructs them.
“You need all my men here just to deal with one little girl?” asks the blonde.
“She's not just one little girl, you fool! I told you she's a lycan. She'll tear you to pieces once she regains her strength.”
“A pity, ” he says, stepping in closer, eyeing me up and down.
“What about you? Aren't you going to stay for a bit of fun, beautiful?” The dark haired one sneers as he turns to Milan. His eyes are raking her figure hungrily.
She narrows her eyes menacingly, and I can feel that she's projecting her dominance to intimidate them. “Watch your mouth. Remember who you're talking to. I'm paying you, and I'm a lycan. I could end you and all your friends out there in a matter of minutes.”
Both men bowed their heads grudgingly, growling like feral animals.
“Well, I'd better be off now. You know what to do,” she says to the men. She then turns to me and says, “Try not to worry too much about Constantine, darling. I'll take good care of him.” With that, she walks out.
“What do you want us to do with this one?” asks the second man who is still holding the sobbing Mia just before Milan disappears around the corner.
“Do what you want with the mutt. Have fun with her. Kill her. I don't care,” she answers offhandedly without even looking back. “Just remember, I want the other one dead right away.” Then she's gone.
“This is great! Two girls to entertain ourselves and our men,” says the dark-haired man. Mia's wailing gets louder.
“Control your bitch! Fuck! Her howling is seriously pissing me off!” yells the blonde.
“Shut up, bitch!” The dark haired man yells at Mia. He yanks her hair back. When she shows no sign of stopping, he slaps her face. Hard. Blood and spits fly out of her mouth. That doesn't stop her wailing.
“Fuck it! I'm taking her outside. See if any of them men are willing to have fun with a howling bitch.” The man smiles, showing his sharp teeth and canines. “Are you gonna share that one?” He points at me.
“No,” answers the other man gruffly.
“Come on, at least let me have a turn.”
“I said, NO!” The blondie roars. The other man recoils and Mia stops wailing for a second. Well, now we know who's in charge.
As soon as they left, the big blond guy looks at me and smiles menacingly. I lean back against the wall and observe him from underneath my eyelashes. If I didn't have the damn toxin in my body, I could've ended him and all his friends out there so easily.
He bends down and pulls out a big bowie knife that's tied to the side of his leg. That's a really big knife. A very big shiny knife.
“Sterling silver,” he murmurs half to himself, eyeing the knife, looking very smug. Silver wouldn't kill a lycan the way it would a werewolf, but it would still hurt. Besides, a knife is a knife. He's going to butcher me. Separate my spine from my body, along with it, my head. Oh, goddess, that's not a good look for me, I decided.
“My mate is going to kill you,” I inform him.
He doesn't answer me. The eyes that meet mine are remote and cold.
“I bet you never had a lycan before,” I try again.
“No, but you're going to kill me if you get the chance, aren't you, princess?” he asks with a sneer.
“Are you going to use the knife? Why don't you phase and kill me as a werewolf that you are?” I taunt him.
His face changed, and suddenly he pushes forward, pressing his nose up against mine. Oh, the smell! His hand grips my face hard. His long dirty fingernails are pressing into my cheeks.
“Because I'm not stupid. I know your blood is poison to me,” he answers through gritted teeth. His foul breath fans over my face and I hold my breath, but only after I had a good whiff of it. I'm so close to puking. I should puke my guts out all over his face. That would probably be his first shower in years!
He must have noticed the look of disgust on my face because he suddenly grins. It doesn't soften the looks in his eyes at all. It looks more like a menacing grimace.
He licks his lips, then places his revolting wet tongue on my chin and drags it along my cheek all the way up to my hairline. I feel his thick slobber running slowly down my cheek, dripping down my chin. I close my eyes and shudder in disgust.
Oh, dear goddess. There has got to be a better way to die than this. I try to reach for Ezra again.
For the love of everything fuzzy, Ezra! I need you!
She's there. I can feel her. She's very weak.
“You find me disgusting, little lady?” He sneers. “Good. That's just the beginning. Now time for the real fun.” That's when he rams his knife right into my stomach.
I open my eyes to find myself staring into his cold yet oddly gleeful eyes. He's deriving sick pleasure from this, I realize. He smiles as he pushes the knife deeper into me. I don't want his to be the last pair of eyes I see before I die. I want Constantine.
Strangely, I'm not feeling any pain, just some pressure and the coldness of steel inside me. I look down in puzzle at the knife buried to the hilt in my stomach. I watch when he pulls the long blade out of me. I can even feel the blade being pulled out. I watch in fascination as blood gushes out. So red. Like my hair. Constantine loves my red hair.
The smell of blood—and death.
Then it starts to burn.
Arghhh!!!!! How it burns!!!
The whole inside of my stomach burns.
Vaguely I hear a bloodcurdling scream. When it gets louder, I realize that it's my own.
My knees give out from under me, but he's gripping my shoulder in a tight vice to keep me upright while he plunges the knife in again. The pain is so unbearable that I stop breathing. I see red. Red. Red everywhere.
He holds the knife up to my chest, and he grins wide as he pushes the blade in. I can feel the blade lodged in my chest. He pulls the knife out and laughs. Blood splashes his face. Red blood running down his tangled beard. He's bathed in my blood.
“Time to carve out your spine, princess.” He spits as he holds my shoulders with his blood-soaked hands and turns me around.
He pins me to the wall and tears my shirt with the knife before I feel the knife slicing my back. Oh goddess, the damn rogue is carving out my spine. Excruciating pain and throbbing agony spread through my veins until I feel like my whole body is engulfed in flames and I scream as I've never screamed before. The more he digs, the louder I scream.
My voice sounds different. His eyes widened when I turn to look at him. I see red. Ezra has awakened.
I grab the hand that's holding the knife and bite into the wrist as another wave of pain sears through me. I hear a god awful scream that's not my own. I barely register his other hand clawing at me. My teeth and canine pierce through the skin, muscle, and tendons. I feel the bones crunching under the pressure of my jaw and teeth. Salty, metallic taste hits my tongue. My mouth is flooded with blood. Blood is running down my chin.
I twist his mangled hand and ram the knife right through his stomach the way he did to me. I find his scream very irritating. So I bite through his neck and pull out his vocal cords. There, all quiet now.
His blood sprays out like fountains, and I'm bathed in it. I pull the knife out of his stomach and discard the unmoving body aside. The fury that is Ezra wants more kill, but I'm very weak. Ezra retreats, and the pain somewhat subsides except for the pain in my spine, which is very excruciating. I don't know how bad it is.
My top is in shreds, and the back is gone. The only thing that's holding it to my body is the blood. It's soaking wet with blood, so are my jeans. Blood is dripping out of my mouth and from my spine, and my wounds. The pain is now throbbing and burning. The remnant of the toxin is still in my system. It's stopping my wounds from healing the way they should. If it's not for the poison, I would have stopped bleeding by now.
I lean against the wall, gripping the knife in my hand as I stagger out. I'm smearing blood on the light brown wall and dripping blood on the dusty gray floor along the way. The rest of the building is really just another tiny room with only one exit door.
I'm standing in the doorway, looking around me. I deduct that this building is in a little clearing of a forest. There are probably around fifteen or so men out there. Some of them are already in their wolves form. They are all standing still like statues. All staring in alarm at the doorway where I'm currently standing. Every one of them is in an aggressive stance. They probably heard the wailing of their leader, the blondie in there.
I spot Mia lying on the ground. Her clothes in shreds. I don't know if she's still breathing. Frankly, I can't bring myself to care right now.
I know in my current state, I won't be able to take on fifteen big wild rogue werewolves. The pain is excruciating, and I can barely stand on my own. I'm done for, but I will not go down without a fight. They will try to separate my spine out of my body, and they will all die after tasting my blood.
Constantine, I love you, I send out to the wind.
I hear their fierce growling. They are all ready to attack. All at once, all of them start moving. Cautiously, one step at a time they're circling me. Almost like a ritualistic dance. Their crazed wild eyes vigilantly fixed on me.
One figure steps out to the front of the group, his eyes blazing. That black haired man. I figure he must be the second in command. He crouches low, and his body and features start to change. His face elongated and his fangs lengthened. Thick black hair grows, covering his whole body. Soon, a big black wolf is crouching in front of me, ready to pounce.
I try to stay upright. The throbbing pain in my spine is dulling my senses and I'm so tired. The blood-soaked knife feels slippery in my hand.
I know he's going to aim his sharp claws for my neck and my face. So I wait. I grip the knife tightly, and when he springs up, I duck and ram the knife into him. The knife didn't go too far in but he roars in pain from the silver. They are all snarling and moving in. They're closing in on me, hungry for my blood now.
Ha! I'm going to die, but I'm bringing them with me.
A big gray wolf jumps on me, and I raise my hands up to push him off. His jaw locked on my shoulder. Another one jumps on my back. His canine sink deep right to my bone. I'm sinking fast.
Suddenly I sense that something is different.
He's here!
They're all here. I can sleep now.
I hear roars all around me. My eyes are closing, when I hear a fierce growling. One minute I'm surrounded by rogues hell-bent on ripping me to shreds, the next I see my mate snapping off the head of the wolf whose jaw was clamped on my back.
All around me I see my pack mates fiercely ripping the bodies and the heads off our enemies.
***
Constantine. My beautiful mate. He's cradling my head gently in his arms. I look up and smile. Those eyes. I never thought I'd see them again.
He turns me all of a sudden to inspect my back. “No… no, no, no...” he murmurs, breathing hard. “Sunshine,” he whispers. He looks pained and confused. “Why isn't she healing? Why isn't she healing???”
He keeps yelling this over and over again. I want to say something, but the blood keeps surging out of my mouth. I want to keep looking into his eyes, but my eyelids are so heavy now.