Chapter 33 #2
He materializes before me and I swing the bottle at him.
With one hand, he stops me and slams my arm back against the bar, twisting it so horribly that I feel a pop in my shoulder.
I scream; my shoulder burning with intense pain.
Steven laughs and twists harder, pressing and pushing, as if he might rip it off entirely.
With my good hand, I search the bar and find a jagged piece of glass from the bottle.
I squeeze it hard enough in my palm that I draw blood, which catches his attention.
The pressure on my arm eases as he locks in on the fresh wound.
When he lunges for my hand, I grip the shard with red fingers and sink the pointed end of it into one of his eyes.
Steven yowls and jumps backward, slamming into the bar.
Bottles topple around us and shatter. Broken glass cuts into my feet, coating my new wounds in expensive liquor.
I bite my lip to hold in a sob. Somehow, the littlest cuts burn the most.
“You stupid fucking bitch!” Steven yowls behind me.
Déjà vu. I take the momentary reprieve to slide myself over the bar to the other side, falling to my knees.
I hobble forward, hoping to get to the front door, when I hear a sickening schlurp from behind.
As I turn, I see him pull the shard from his eye, which he then whips at me like I’m a goddamn dartboard.
It strikes my thigh, and I go down, as if I’ve been shot.
I fall onto the ground, cushioned by my bad arm, and hold back the tears that threaten to fall from the pain.
“That was a cheap shot,” says Steven as he comes to stand above me, perched at my feet.
He leans down and swipes the glass from my leg.
My voice tears through my chest in a blood-curdling howl.
Immediately, blood warms my skin as it comes rushing out of the open wound.
I fist at the ground with my good hand and bite down.
No more, my body shrieks, no more, no more.
“All done running now?” he challenges, followed by the sound of a bone snapping. My bone.
Another scream rips through me as he breaks my left leg, right below the spot where he pulled the glass out. I flip onto my back, held in place by his one foot still holding my broken leg in place. It’s so intense I could pass out from the shock alone.
“Get the fuck off of me!” I scream, kicking at his leg with my one good foot. He steps off with a laugh, and somehow, that makes it all worse.
“Too bad.” Steven frowns as he lifts me up from the ground by my collar. “I wanted a dance.”
Despite the aching in my body, and my broken and bleeding leg, I manage enough energy to spit in his face.
“As if,” I choke out between sobs.
Rage twists his features into something feral. There’s nothing human about his eyes, his face, or the way his mouth yawns so wide that it makes me think of a viper about to strike. But just as he’s ready to sink his sharpened fangs into my throat, he screeches, piercing my ears.
“Millie!” Someone calls my name from the shadows.
Steven is still screaming, wrapped up in a sudden burst of fire that climbs its way up from his feet to his face.
I watch in horror as his skin blackens and cracks, consumed by the white hot heat of the fire rolling off of him.
Eventually, he drops me, and in an attempt to make the fire stop, he runs toward the exit, breaking through the front door.
“Millie, oh my god, are you okay?”
My eyes are blurry with tears, but I can just make out the shape of Jill’s face.
She looks panicked and afraid, which should raise alarms, but all I can focus on is the big purple bruise under her left eye.
Definitely not in the right state of mind, I blame it on the blinding pain and fading adrenaline.
“Who…” I lick my lips and croak, “who gave you… that shiner?”
The adrenaline is wearing off, which means I’ve got about five minutes of lucidity before my body catches up with the shock.
My leg is throbbing to the point that I feel like I could vomit everywhere, and my head is pounding twice as bad as a weeklong migraine.
Breathing is becoming difficult as the pain spreads to my ribs.
I can’t tell how many, but I’m sure I’ve broken a few.
“I’m so sorry, Millie, I’m so sorry,” she strains to speak, as if she could cry at any moment.
“Keep her awake,” I hear Dax, and though it comes off as commanding, he sounds just as panicked as Jill. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
Black shadows skirt the corners of my vision, threatening to close in. I’m having a hard time staying awake, especially now, since all I can think about is how much I hurt.
“Don’t do that.” Another voice cuts through the growing haze. I recognize the voice. Tannis?
A cool hand touches my forehead, smoothing one thumb along my brows.
“Go gargle garlic, you fucking leech!” Jill shouts.
God, I hope she doesn’t set them on fire, too.
“We have to help her!” another voice shouts, and the hand on my forehead falls away. I’m pretty sure it’s Gray. “She won’t make it if you call for an ambulance.”
“As if giving her your blood is any better!” Jill shrieks.
I can feel the room falling away beneath me as darkness closes in. I can’t keep myself awake anymore. My head feels like it could explode. Sleeping will make it go away, make their voices go away. I can’t stand the arguing. Not right now, not when I’m clearly toeing the line between life and death.
“It’ll heal her!” Gray snarls. My heart sinks at the desperation thickening his voice. He sounds so sad, so hurt… so broken.
“Fuck you,” Jill snaps.
“Fight me if you want, but I won’t let her die.” The conviction in his voice is strong.
“Fine.” Her voice is practically a snarl.
Then, silence falls around me, and for a minute, I think I’ve died and gone to whatever afterlife is waiting for me.
But then I taste it—blood. It’s on my tongue and spilling down my throat.
The taste is different, somehow, like crisp apples or freshly cut honeydew.
I drink and drink, afraid of the fire that will follow knowing what Gray’s blood will do to me. Still, I can’t stop myself.
What’s another drop?
“That’s it,” someone soothes. “Drink, Millie.”
And I do… at least until the darkness wins out and I spin sleepily into endless shadows.