Taken Over (The Ravening #2)(46)
Author: Erica Stevens

“No no sweetness,” he whispered. I could feel the darkness leaving me as he pulled slightly away. The black veins in his face began to slowly fade but his eyes remained burning charcoal orbs as he smiled at me. “Out.” His disgusting tongue moved up my neck, tasting more of my blood before moving on to stroke over my cheeks. I recoiled in revulsion from the feel of him. “It’s so much more fun when you stay awake. So much more fun when you enjoy every little thing that I am going to do to you. For hours, days even. I’ll make him pay for being a greedy, treacherous boy. Oh the joy of it all.”

I wanted to cry, wanted to sob in horror, but he was ripping me away from the wall. Dragging me by my neck he made his way toward the back of the room. I stumbled, nearly fell, but was held ungraciously up by the nails he dug sharply into my skin. I could feel blood seeping from the numerous wounds he inflicted upon me.

“I’ll teach him to try and hide his toys, to not share. You are a rare treat, a survivor, a delicious, scrumptious little survivor. It’s truly amazing you know.”

No, I didn’t know; I didn’t have one damn clue what the hell he was talking about. In fact, I could hardly think at all due to the lingering haze of pain, confusion, and terror that was clamoring through me.

Ian stopped abruptly, jerking me roughly up. Before I knew what he was doing, his hand was at my waistband. I froze in horror, my muscles locked into place as my breath stuck in my lungs. He grinned at me as his fingers brushed over my skin. They dipped momentarily lower, brushing against the edge of my underwear before he pulled the other gun from beneath my shirt. “It’s not time for that yet sweet one, not until we’re out of here anyway. There will be plenty of time for that after we’re away.”

My mouth parted slightly in horror, it was in that moment that I realized there was a fate worse than death, and that I was facing it. Renewed strength filled me; I shoved violently off of him as I tried to pull free of his tight hold. Pain surged through me as his claws ripped across my throat, and tore into my skin. Blood spilled over me, but he had not expected me to react at all so I was able to wrench free of his tight hold. Shock radiated over his face for a moment, and then the black lines surged to the forefront again.

I stumbled back, trying to catch my balance as I slammed off of one of the tables. He lurched at me, leaping forward with a snarl that caused the hair on my arms to stand on end. Grabbing hold of the closest thing to me, I lifted the microscope and swung it at him with the full force of my might. Pain radiated through my arms as the jarring impact of microscope, verse face, slammed through me.

His head snapped to the side, but his forward momentum was barely knocked off balance as he plowed into me. His arms wrapped around my waist as we fell back. I took most of the impact of the hard floor as my body bounced painfully off of it. A startled cry escaped me, I wanted to scream but he was on top of me, tearing ferociously at me. My shirt ripped beneath his savage assault. His face was a mask of fury and blackness, though he was enraged with me, he did not shred my skin. It was apparent that he was able to keep enough reason to not kill me now; that would ruin all of his wonderful future plans for me.

I tried to fend him off, tried to deflect his hands as he pushed and pulled and grabbed brutally at me. He seized hold of my hands and slammed them over my head with one of his hands. He was so strong, so unbelievably, inhumanly strong. It seemed as if he had a million hands, seemed as if he were everywhere at once as he leaned over me, leering with vicious intent.

He grabbed hold of my cheeks, squeezing painfully. I winced in pain, wishing that I could slap his hand away, wishing that I could slap him. “By the time I’m done with you you’re going to be begging to die. Begging for me to kill you.”

I had no doubt that he was right as I glared at him, but he was going to get one hell of a fight before then. He grabbed hold of me, hauling me to my feet by my wounded throat. I tried to pull away from him again, but he held tight. His nails were sharp against my brutalized skin; his hand was tight in my hair as he jerked it sharply forward.

He had only dragged me forward ten feet when the low growl pierced the air. I tried to turn, tried to see where the noise had come from when I was knocked violently aside. A small cry of surprise escaped me as I bounced roughly off of one of the tables and fell to the ground. The flashlight went tumbling into the darkness. Its beam bounced around the room, flashing blindingly over the walls as it spun. I didn’t know what was going on, could barely make out anything as I blinked rapidly against the flashing brilliance. The sounds of a brutal assault were loud in the room.

I scurried away, scrambling on my hands and knees as the table next to me skittered into the blackness. I jerked back, frightened of getting hit by the heavy piece of furniture as it was kicked violently back at me. My heart pounded with fear as I searched for the door, but my vision had been compromised by the flashlight. I couldn’t make out anything within the room. My skin crawled with horror. I could hear the violent sounds of punching, the grunts and snarls of the fighters, the cracking of furniture and bones as the fighters rolled and tore at each other.

I didn’t know who my savior was, or if they were even winning, but I did know that I had to get the hell out of here, and I needed help. I had just regained my feet when I was hit from behind by one of the bodies. I staggered forward, but my leg twisted beneath me and I found myself back on my hands and knees again. Pain blasted through my palms and bruised knees. I struggled to get away but one of the fighters was still half on top of my awkwardly twisted foot.

A startled cry of terror escaped me as hands clawed at me, trying to gain purchase in my hair or ruined clothes. I fell, rolling out from underneath them as someone reared out of the night. Fury and fear pulsated within the room; whoever had been seeking me was knocked forcefully aside.

That was when I spotted the flashlight. I scurried forward, crawling swiftly across the floor as I reached for the small, gleaming torch. My hand seized hold of it as an echoing snap resounded through the room. Everything went silent. I froze, my hand wrapped around the handle of the light as I waited breathlessly in the dark. I had never heard that sound before, but I knew instinctively that it had been the sound of a breaking neck. I didn’t know who had won, I didn’t know if Ian was going to grab hold of me again. I didn’t want to move, didn’t even want to blink. I was afraid that any small movement would reveal my location and that the assault would begin anew.