Chapter 1 #3
Maybe he would help me, maybe he wouldn't, but in either case, I could put him in between them and me.
I quickly moved, ignoring the shards of pain in my feet as I stepped around behind him.
Something brushed against my bare thighs as I moved, sending electricity through me.
It was a long, glowing white dreadlock that hung down from...
not his head. It was much longer and came out from just above the band of his trousers, along the base of his spine, like a tail that refused to stay tucked away.
I stared at it as it twitched, brushing against my thighs again.
There were bulges along his spine under his shirt, and they moved, wriggling softly.
The spider-faced hyenas barked out something, tearing my attention away from what was hiding under my new friend's shirt.
My jacket-donating friend growled something back, his tone significantly harsher than when he had been speaking to me.
The snarl that came back from the hyena pack was no longer pretending to be friendly; it sounded murderous.
One moment, my jacket-donating guy was in front of me.
In the next heartbeat, he was moving, low and fast.
He ducked beneath an incoming blow and drove his fist into the hyena's gut with a thud that echoed through the cavernous space.
Before the creature could crumple, he twisted away, deflecting a clawed hand with a sharp snap of his forearm against the incoming wrist. The glowing white tail lashed out like a whip, grabbing the ankle of the one he just blocked, and there was a loud crunching sound, and the attacker's scream of pain was interrupted as the tail yanked sideways, pulling the shattered ankle and leg out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.
One of the hyenas circled around him, heading towards me, his eyes intent, his teeth bared, a knife in his hands.
My rescuer turned, fluid and lethal, his leg sweeping out to catch that one. The hyena toppled with a snarl, the knife it carried skittering across the floor and landing at my feet with a metallic clatter.
I bent down and picked up the knife.
My jacket-donating savior let out a snarl, low, feral, as claws raked across his shoulder, dark blood blooming through torn fabric.
He didn't turn. Instead, he stepped backward, his back smashing into his attacker, forcing him back against the concrete wall behind them.
His hair burst free from its confines, moving of its own accord, a medusa of glowing white snakes that lashed out behind him towards the hyena's face.
There was a crunching sound, but movement near me drew my attention.
The fallen hyena-alien near me was rising, supporting itself on one leg, limbs trembling, all four of its gleaming eyes locked on mine.
I held out the knife.
“I will stab you,” I told him, my voice trembling from the adrenaline and fear, even as an utter cold certainty settled into my mind.
I was afraid, but my fear didn't matter. I'd never hurt anyone before, but that also didn't matter.
The only thing that mattered was the utter and complete certainty that I would do what I had to do to survive, even if it meant killing a monster who could only see me as prey.
The four-eyed hyena monster stalked towards me, his teeth bared.
I could see a little bit of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth, and he licked it as he took another step towards me.
I took a deep, slow breath, bracing myself as my mind raced through what I could do.
I had never fought, but I knew how easy it was to overlook someone.
When he lunged, I would drop my weight and my stance, shifting my position and giving me a platform to come at him myself.
He would reach for the dagger, and as he did, I would stomp on his broken ankle.
But I didn't have to.
A large, grey hand wrapped around his neck, yanking him backward.
A low, piercing wail split the air, deep and resonant, like a horn echoing through the underworld.
Red and amber lights pulsed at the far end of the tunnel, flickering against the damp walls as something approached.
It looked like a vehicle...vaguely car-shaped, but strange.
It hovered above the ground, casting shifting shadows, and its doors were massive, out of proportion, like they’d been built for something larger than human.
My jacket-donating stranger was beside me again, and before I could speak, I was swept off my feet, cradled against his chest. He was warm, strong.
The scent of him washed over me, and it was familiar and comforting, yet alien all at the same time.
My mind whirled through combinations, possibilities of the scent.
It was woody and masculine, like Texas cedarwood, but with a creamy floral undertone, similar to ylang ylang, and was spicy and earthy.
He ran. Like a dream, he ran.
But the twinging of my feet and the cold air against my cheeks were reminders that this wasn't a dream.
His stride devoured the pavement, muscles coiling and releasing with impossible speed as he tore up the stairs and vanished into the night with me in his arms. He was taking me somewhere, and at this point, I didn't care.
I wasn't going to try to stop him. I was cold, alone, and my feet were bleeding.
All I felt was relief that someone who cared enough to cover me, stealing me away into the night.
I didn't know where I was or how I'd gotten there, but I knew I was utterly out of my depth, and so far, this guy was willing to fight to protect me.
He was dangerous, and right now I was his, and that was all that mattered.
We twisted through streets I didn’t recognize, shapes of buildings that didn't make sense even in the strange lights and shadowy darkness, his steps sure and even as the world blurred past.
Finally, he ducked into the shadows of a narrow alley, the noise behind us swallowed by the dark.
He crouched down behind something that smelled foul, like a dumpster, balancing me on his thighs as he put one hand on the wall, trapping me in the curving half circle of his form, his upper body curling over me as he held me against his chest. We were hiding in an alley.
I stayed still in his grip, my mind still filled with a quiet that was reserved for observing and evaluating.
I was warm, I was hidden. I was... safe?
He was breathing hard.
He also wasn’t looking at me.
He was staring at his own hand on the wall, where his claws were now digging into the hard material of it, creating gouges.
My mind made a note of that... claws strong enough to pierce concrete, and I let that note float by.
It didn't matter. What mattered was that his eyes had a wild look in them, as if he wasn’t seeing anything, and they weren't fully green anymore.
There was a red hue creeping in from the corners of his eyes, like blood vessels had burst and were spilling out onto the surface.
His other hand flexed against me, and I could feel the sharp prick of his claws against the jacket, but they didn’t pierce through it, and they didn't hurt.
His mouth was open as he breathed hard, his teeth bright and sharp in the dim light of the alleyway, like he was inhaling my scent.
Something was wrong.
That sense of safety fled, and I stared at those sharp teeth and saw only a predator.
I lifted the knife I still held in my hands to his throat and pressed the blade against his skin.
“Let me go,” I whispered.