His manner of speech struck me as odd, somewhat quaint and accented.Right now, I need to focus on getting out of here in one piece instead of worrying about his voice.
Hot and tight, his hand continued to press against my mouth, leaving just enough room for me to breathe through my nose. He didn’t budge otherwise.
Pulling my lips backward, I bit and slammed the heel of my shoe against his shin at the same time.
With a grunt, he shoved me against the wall.
I turned my head to keep from smashing my nose against the hard rock, and the rough stone scraped my cheek.
“Stop trying to escape. I can hold you here forever.” His breath smelled clean, like sweet mint. “But I suspect you wouldn’t enjoy it very much.”
Suddenly, the pressure of his body disappeared, but I still couldn’t move my limbs. It was as if my arms and legs were glued to the wall along with my cheek.
From the corner of my vision, his silhouette shifted to my right. The outside light outlined his lean body but obliterated any distinguishing features of his face.
“W-what do you want?” My voice, small and weak, shamed me. I was terrified, and it made my words waver, but I couldn’t help it. No sane or benevolent person would hide in the woods and hold a stranger captive. “My friends are nearby, they’ll—”
“Never know, will they?” One finger reached outward and grasped a lock of hair that had escaped my ponytail. He lifted the ends to his nose and inhaled. “What’s your name?”
There was no way in hell I’d give himanyinformation.
Pressure slid into my mind. I could almost imagine ghostly fingertips caressing the ridges and grooves of my brain. Words spewed out of my mouth. “Phoebe Blutengel.”
What the...?I gasped then clamped my lips shut.
“Blutengel, hmm?” His words carried a silky-smooth accent. Eastern European, possibly. Moving closer, his breath stirred the hairs on my neck. “Are you an immigrant?”
“No.”Shut up, Phoebe, I screamed at myself, but I had no control over my mouth—or brain. “But my dad was.”
“Tell me, Phoebe,” he purred, the low timbre of his voice sending strange tingles through my blood. “What are youreallydoing here? Did Malachi send you to spy on my progress?”
What is he talking about?I bit my lip, determined not to say anything more. “I’m here for a college assignment.” Mixed with my terror rose a thread of unease.He’s doing something to make me talk.
He moved closer, drowning me with his closeness and leathery scent. Deep inside, a yearning to see his face beat inside my mind. If I could get a clear view, maybe I could...What? Spit on him? Hit him?Remembering my paralysis, I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, forcing the sting of tears down.
If I’m going to die, I will not give him the satisfaction of crying.
“I should kill you.” One finger skated across my bare upper arm, his fingernail creating a soft scrape that hissed through the cave. “But I’m trying to decide if I want to play with you first.”
Oh, God, what had I gotten myself into? Mom would never get over losing me, not after what happened with Dad. Panic flooded my veins, and my earlier resolve to not cry crumpled. “Please. I-I won’t tell anyone you’re here. Promise. Just let me go and I swear to never bother you again.”
“Please, hmm?” It sounded as if he smiled as he spoke the word. He shifted to my other side, his body brushing against my back. “How I hate that word.” A hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing gently, then harder, as if he enjoyed it.
Still unable to move my limbs and glued to the wall like a splattered bug on a windshield, I couldn’t even turn my head. Black spots danced in front of my eyes, darker than the murky cave.
Please, God. I don’t want to die. Not this way.
