I faced him off, frightened. Someone else was trying to kill me. This couldn’t be coincidental.
My attacker shifted his weight from foot to foot, debating his next move. He was huge, but he smelled human. Then again, he could be another shapeshifter.
Belatedly I realized I was right in front of my dorm, where many people were peacefully sleeping. I let out a blood-curdling scream, hoping to wake someone up.
My attacker charged me, but he was clumsy. I sidestepped him and kicked his feet out from under him.
If I were paying better attention, I would’ve noticed the second heartbeat closing in on me. But I was so absorbed by my first attacker that I didn’t until I saw the swing of an object in my peripherals a fraction of a second before it connected. There was a flash of excruciating pain, and then nothing.
Chapter 17
I woke up in the back of a van, my head pounding. I tried to sit up, but my arms were restrained with duct tape, as were my legs.
Oh God. Where were we going? And what were they going to do to me?
The radio was on and an announcer was discussing a soccer game, each dip and rise of his voice making my already pounding head burst with new waves of pain. A foreign smell wafted over me, making me focus on the driver. He smelled like smoke and decay. Whatever he was, he wasn’t human.
A metal grate separated me from the two men, so I couldn’t get to them.
It was pretty clear they thought I was sufficiently incapacitated, leaving me back here to my own devices.
It was also clear that they weren’t taking me to go get ice cream. If I wanted to live, I’d needed to act now while I still had the element of surprise. I knew that with a little effort I could break through the duct tape, and then it was a simple matter of jumping out of a moving car. I swallowed at the thought. The real trick was going to be staying quiet.
I tried pulling my wrists apart, but the duct tape wouldn’t give. I tried again. Again, nothing happened. Luckily the idiots had bound my hands in front of me, so I brought my wrists to my lips and began to bite the tape. I tugged at it with my teeth, trying to rip an edge. Nothing. I bit down hard on the duct tape, now angry and panicked. I felt my canines elongate in response. About time.
I used my sharpened teeth to tear the tape. In order to remain quiet, I pulled the tape off agonizingly slowly, a layer of skin and hair peeling away with it. My eyes pricked with tears from the sharp pain and my pounding headache intensified.
I glanced at my captors. They were now cursing at some call the ref had made and the announcer was discussing.
I undid the tape that bound my feet slowly, glancing up again and again to make sure my captors weren’t aware of my progress.
They must not realize how fast I heal. That, or they thought the blow to my head had mortally wounded me. Otherwise they’d keep a better eye on me.
Once I was free, I quietly slid to the back doors and tried the handle. Locked. I kept an eye out for my kidnappers, but they were still preoccupied with the game.
I took a deep breath for courage, and lay down along the floor. I pulled my foot back and aimed at the van’s back doors. Putting all my strength into it, I kicked the door. The plastic crunched and metal creaked.
“What in the bloody hell?” One of the men up front turned in time to see me plant a second kick to the back doors.
“Stewie!” he yelled. “She’s tryin’ to escape! Grab yer fuckin’ gun and shoot her!”
My third kick swung the door open. Third time’s the charm.
I got onto my feet and prepared to jump. This was going to hurt. Behind me Stewie or the other goon cocked his gun.
I sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that I might survive this. I held my breath as my body left the van.
A shot exploded through the night air. The bullet hit my side before I touched the ground. I crumpled in midair and collided hard with the packed dirt of the road.
My body slammed into the ground, and I blacked out on impact. The pain consumed me.
When I came to several seconds later, all I felt was pain. I lay there, unmoving, wishing I had stayed unconscious; the alternative hurt too much. The smell of blood made my nostrils flare, and through all the pain, I felt my elongated canines throb.
A short distance from where I lay, the van slammed on the breaks and pulled to the shoulder of the road. I watched both men get out, one with a gun and the other with a baton. I could tell they didn’t see me right away. Neither had night vision. To them I was some dark shadow amongst other shadows.
I needed to get up, but everything hurt too much. Using my arms, I pulled my broken body to the side of the road. I bit back a whimper; the pain was unbearable.