“The second I pull that pencil out, her artery is going to spew blood out like a broken dam. Left alone, it’ll kill her in two minutes.”
“We only need two minutes to rip you apart, asshole,” the black-haired woman seethed.
Reykon flashed a malicious smile. “I know that, silly.”
They glanced nervously at eachother. Reykon felt the cool night air at his back and ran through his escape plan again. He’d already pilfered the keys off Red’s inattentive person, and just had to get to the vehicle. But there was one more thing that had to happen to ensure his head start.
“Now, I need a volunteer, please… Nobody? Fine. Tanker, this one’s on you.” Reykon kept the hunting knife on her neck, standing behind the chair and leaning over. He brandished the scalpel with his other hand and moved it down, trailing past her torso and hovering above her inner thigh, a few inches below the belt that had been fastened there. “In a couple of seconds, I’m going to slice her femoral artery open.”
The wolves tensed.
“Not yet; you’ve got a bit of time. Listen up: Tanker, as soon as I do that, you’re going to crank on this belt, hard. You’ll slow the bleeding down long enough for hibernation to kick in. Snow White,” he called, turning to the black-haired woman, who was staring at him with fury. “You’re going to do the same with your belt, up here, close to her armpit. Clay, you’re on towel duty. The second I clear this window, grab the towels from the bathroom. Trust me, you’re going to need all of them.”
Red let out a cry of panic, feeling the knife rest on her leg. Reykon eyed the room deviously and then pressed his mouth against her ear. “You’ve been great, really, but I’ve got somewhere to be.”
He sliced her leg in one clean, diagonal movement. Blood shot up like a geyser, and a look of horror spread across her friends’ faces just in time for Reykon to rip the pencil out of her arm, causing another gush of blood. Red made a horrible, animalistic cry, shaking in pain and fear.
In an instant, Reykon retreated, jumping backwards out of the window and sailing through the night air. They were only on the second floor. When he hit the ground, he felt his ribcage crack, but it wasn’t anything that would slow him down. Besides, strongbloods healed at a faster rate than humans. He’d only need about twenty-four hours to be back to top strength.
He rolled on his shoulder and sprinted for the cluster of trucks that no doubt belonged to the offending werewolves. They’d be occupied for a while; werewolves would never leave an injured alone. With a click of the fob, he found the right one and hopped in, slamming the door and revving the engine.
He figured Robin had gone to the first road she’d seen, which was the freeway north, to Denver. He gunned it, his knuckles tightening across the steering wheel. His first priority was distance. The second was a phone, which would be the key to finding Robin.
Robin
Her mind was still adjusting to what had happened.
Over the course of three hours, she’d gone from being trapped with Reykon to being free to being trapped and kidnapped by giant (no, seriously giant) wolves, who could shift into people and then back to wolves whenever they wanted. Naked people, by the way, which didn’t seem to bother them one bit.
They’d dragged her out of the woods, roughly, leaving hand mark bruises on her arms. Once they’d gotten to a vehicle, they’d jammed a bag over her head and thrown her in the backseat, wedged between two large strangers.
She wasn’t sure how long they’d driven, but the road was rough, and rocky. She kept swaying, bumping into the people sandwiching her, the bag over her head making her nauseous with each curve of road. Her guess: they were headed somewhere deep in the back country. At one point, closer to their destination, the driver had gotten out and unhinged a rusty metal gate, which had only disheartened her further.
A private gate would likely lead into a private road that potentially didn’t show up on maps. She had no clue where they were taking her, she had no clue how to get back to the main road, and she had no clue what the wolves were planning to do with her.
A few miles later, they’d slowed to a stop, and she’d been dragged into a house that smelled like dust and cedar. Only then did they take the hood off.
The light had assaulted her; warm, golden lamps glowing off oak wood that covered all the walls and ceilings. It was a true log cabin, with square paneled windows and a massive, old fashioned wood furnace. A matted couch sat in the middle of the main area, and off to the left sat a small box-shaped kitchen. There were a couple of bunk rooms down the hall. A bathroom, and an outhouse. A big round table sat front and center in the main area, littered with decks of cards and trinkets. Over the hearth, there was an intricate carving of a wolf, whose fur turned into armor or something like that. She wasn’t focused on the décor.
She’d turned, looking at her kidnappers, who were digging into the closet and pulling out clothes, not paying much attention to Robin at all.
There was one woman with long brown hair in a braid, who looked like she belonged in the marine corps
