Page 18 of Twice Bitten

A soft exhale escaped me, then a laugh. Edmund had made me paranoid. Shaking my head, I turned back around and kept walking, this time at a more normal pace.

For the first minute, everything seemed fine. The next time the sound came, the hairs on the back of my neck rose. I stopped again and turned to see a man with pale hair at least a block back.

“Hiya, pretty Alex,” Beckett said. I couldn’t make out his features that far away, but I’d never forget that voice or that nickname. In an instant, he was upon me, clawed hands gripping my jaw. “Your heartbeat sounds like a drum. Are you afraid of me?”

His grip was like iron. Struggling was useless. I had to try something else.

“Any woman would be a fool not to be afraid of a strange man approaching a lone woman in an alley.”

Beckett’s lips quirked to one side. “You think I mean you harm?”

“I can’t imagine you’re here to deliver flowers.”

A soft laugh. One of his claws pressed into my cheek, tearing through the skin. I hissed in pain and tried to extricate myself, but Beckett was immovable. Blood poured from the wound.

Beckett inhaled, his eyes taking on a strange green glow. I whimpered with fear. He touched his tongue with his claw, opening a small wound, then leaned forward and licked my cheek with the flat of his tongue. Magic sizzled against my skin, numbing the cut.

“You taste like the earth and something else I can’t identify. Something delicious, pretty Alex.”

When in doubt, line ‘em up and rack ‘em. I went completely still and waited for him to relax a hair before bringing my knee up and smashing it into his balls.

Beckett’s eyes went wide. A rasping wheeze slipped from his lips before he went down like a stone.

I turned and hauled ass, feet sliding on damp gravel. I stumbled, my knee slamming into the ground and my hands hitting the concrete, sharp rocks slicing through my skin. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I scrambled upright and ran as fast as I could.

My mother used to say fear was a wonderful motivator. I never really understood what she meant until this moment. Everything in the alley became crystal clear. The rocks, the gravel, the small puddles of water I avoided to keep from slipping again.

My mind was a tangle of thoughts. I should have worn better shoes. Why was my purse so heavy? Would Beckett try to turn me or worse?

Why was he so obsessed with me?

Why wasn’t he still in session?

And then, the final thought came as Iskidded around a corner—he could catch up with me if he wanted to, so was he just playing with me, or did he have something worse in mind?

A sob tore from my throat as my feet slid, my arms pinwheeling to keep myself upright as I rounded the corner.

And straight into two massive men embroiled in a physical fight.

SEVEN

Claws sliced deep into the skin of my arm, tearing muscle and tendon. I screamed in agony and tried to tear myself away. A flash of horrified green eyes, the sound of flesh ripping away.

Another stab to my side, a gasp of pain, a shout of alarm.

“Help,” I said weakly. “Help me.”

Blood dripped everywhere. Into my eyes, my mouth, tasting of an icy river during winter.

“Shit!” barked one of the men. “Stop! Truce! Alric, goddammit! Stop!”

“I can’t!” came a crisp, cultured voice. “She’s impaled herself on my claws.” A click of the tongue. “Poor thing.”

Beckett skidded around the corner and stopped abruptly, eyes widening as he took in the scene.

“She’s going to bleed out,” the gruffer of the two males said.

A low, muffled curse came from one of them, the sounds all beginning to muddle together.