A superior sneer curled Samson’s lip back from jagged teeth, wrinkling the skin along his stubby snout. “I put you in your rightful place. You’re not worthy of the wolf.”
“The hell I’m not!” I shouted, scraping up the dregs of my resolve and anger to fuel my legs into motion. Wailing like an enraged banshee I rose up on shaking legs, and launched myself at him. I knew I’d have as little effect on him as a clumsy puppy while in my soft and defenseless human body, but there was no way I was going to do nothing. I had to at least try to fight him before he ground my heart to useless meat.
He caught me with one giant hand around the throat, lifting me up off the ground to leave my feet dangling in the air. Clawing at his fingers, I tried to pry his hand loose, but might as well have been pulling at tempered steel for all the good it did. My lungs began to burn with the need for air, my mind growing fuzzy as black sparkles danced at the corners of vision like dark fairies calling me into the beyond. Still I fought him, raking my nails against the solid flesh of his arm while frantically kicking out at him, occasionally connecting with his thigh or hip.
Gradually my movements grew slower, my fingers becoming clumsy and difficult to control, my legs hanging useless and leaden.
Drawing me closer until the rancid heat of his breath ruffled the hair around my face, Samson peered down into my eyes and spoke in a low, gloating voice. “Goodbye, Riley.”
The discordant sound of a car horn cut through his moment of glory a second before the headlights lit the darkness. Loose rocks and debris shot out from under the tires as someone gunned it and came tearing down the road towards us. Time seemed to slow as the car advanced on us, creeping forward second by second until it was a hairsbreadth away. I felt the heat of the engine against the backs of my legs, and heard the ping of rocks bouncing up to strike the underside of the car. In front of me Samson appeared to be frozen in disbelief, his grip on my throat loosening a fraction, but not quite enough for me to draw a breath.
I was out of air, and out of time, but dammit I wasn’t going out without taking the bastard down with me. My vision had narrowed down to dark pinpoints, but I didn’t need to see for what I planned to do. Winding up as if preparing to kick the winning goal at a soccer game, I swung my foot forward with every last ounce of strength I possessed, nailing him in the ’ole family jewels.
Snarling in pain, his hand flexed and then sprang open, dropping me to the ground. For once luck was with me, and as I landed the slope of the ground carried me off to the right, and out of the car’s path as it continued on its trajectory, plowing into Samson. Time returned to normal the instant the car’s front bumper drove him backwards into the broad trunk of a towering pine tree, pinning him there. The noise that came out of him was somewhere between a howl and a wail, and sent a shudder through me.
My throat burned as I drew my first ragged breath in what felt like a lifetime, my mind swimming from the sudden flood of oxygen. Slowly my patchy vision resolved into the ruined front end of Alyssa’s car, the billowing steam obscuring Samson’s face, though his snarls and enraged shouts remained clear enough.
“You fucking bitch! I’m going to tear you open and eat your guts!”
Using a nearby tree to haul myself up to my feet, mindless of the rough bark scraping the top layer of skin off my palms, I had to swallow several times before I managed to say, “Yeah, yeah. Take a number, asshole.”
It was with a sense of relief that I approached the driver’s side door and caught Holbrook’s familiar warm molasses scent, but concern quickly swept through me when it was joined by the scent of blood.
Tuning out Samson’s continued snarling rant, I opened the door with shaking hands, moving quickly to catch Holbrook as he slumped sideways towards me, nearly falling out of the car. Blood streamed from his nose from the airbag that had exploded in his face. He groaned fitfully when I pushed him back into the car and gently laid his head back against the headrest. I had nothing on me to stem the flow of blood, and resorted to tearing a strip of fabric off the bottom of his shirt to wipe the blood from his chin.
“I got him. I got him, Riley,” he muttered, his eyelashes fluttering against his pallid cheeks.
“Yes, you did,” I replied, mopping at another rivulet of blood before it dripped onto his shirt.
“Alyssa’s gonna be pissed.”
“I think she’ll understand.”
“I treated her bad…shouldn’t have told her she couldn’t feed. Wasn’t fair.” I felt guilty listening to his delirious confession, empathy and jealousy warring for dominance in the center of my chest.
“Shh. Just rest for a minute. I have to go finish something,” I soothed, reaching past him to retrieve the Glock from the passenger seat.