“I don’t think so,” Belial argued. “Unlike you, I don’t enjoy sloppy seconds. And besides, we both know your partners rarely survive for a second round.”
“Fair point.” Tom chuckled. “Shall I hold her down while you partake?”
“And ruin half the fun? I like it when they fight.” Belial shook his head. “I say we let her flee and whoever captures her first gets to do whatever they like.”
Tom’s face almost split, he smiled so wide. “To the victor goes the spoils.”
The way they spoke of raping me chilled to the bone because they seemed to assume they’d win. But I was a vampire. Could I take them? Maybe not both at once, but one on one, I might just have a chance.
Before they could disarm me with more threats, I bolted. Ran for the deep pockets of shadows created by the stacked crates.
“It’s been a while since I’ve played hide and seek,” shouted Tom. “But you should know, I always win. Now, ready or not, here I come.”
And I had no choice but to play in this game of life or death.
Chapter Fourteen
Now probably wasn’t the right time to remind myself I sucked at playing hide and go seek. Like, I seriously always got caught, which could actually work to my advantage.
I needed these two assholes to come at me one at a time, then I could?—
Awoo. Bark. Snarl.
My eyes widened. Hold on a second. Did I hear dogs?
Tom yelled out. “Hope you don’t mind if we make this a little more entertaining for those watching my CrypTube Channel. I set loose some hellhounds who’ve not been fed in a few days.”
Not to be outdone, Belial hollered, “It’s not the smelly canines you should worry about, but the imps.”
What the fuck was an imp?
I found out a second later as one literally dropped out of the air and landed on my head. Claws wrapped around and pulled my hair. Wings flapped wildly. And was that a tail thrashing my back?
I reached up and yanked it from my scalp, wincing in pain as it took chunks of hair with it. The thing in my grip hissed and thrashed until I smashed its wiry body against a crate enough times it stopped moving. My killing it, though, acted as a signal.
Screeching filled the air as did the ominous flapping of leathery wings. Add in the canines howling and barking and I had a real problem. One of the threats could be more easily avoided than the other, though.
As a hellhound came barreling for me—with its red eyes shining bright as a blood moon—I leaped and grabbed hold of a crate. I hauled myself upward just in time. The dog leaped and snapped its teeth but couldn’t reach my flesh.
“Ha,” I exclaimed. “Not so tough now, are you?” Taunting the rabid hellhound might seem odd, but it did much to help my confidence. I’d temporarily solved one dilemma.
Instinct screamed and it sounded a lot like my gym coach—Duck, you idiot! I crouched abruptly and the imp aiming for me missed—unlike those rubber red missiles used in dodgeball, the sound of which still haunted me.
The imp that flapped past, hovered, and let out a squeal to its friends. The warehouse ceiling might be shrouded in shadows, but I still spotted movement and, more ominously, heard the imps coming.
A lot of them.
I leaped to a higher crate while at the same time snatching from midair the next flying monster. It hissed and thrashed but proved no match for my strength. Holding it by the clawed feet, I swung the imp and batted another out of the air. And another. Look at me, managing to strike moving objects, unlike my short-lived stint trying out for softball.
I was feeling pretty good about my odds until I got mobbed!
A cloud of imps descended all at once and surrounded me in a vortex of sharp and ripping claws and snapping jaws. I punched. I grabbed. I punted. But all the fancy—and awkward—fight moves in the world couldn’t have stopped one of them from latching on to my arm with needle-like teeth.
“Fucking ow,” I yelled, which did nothing to remove it. I wanted to tug it free, but my hands were busy fighting off others attempting to bite. The imp chewing my arm left me with only one real choice to counter its attack. I ducked my head and chomped.
I’ll admit to feeling a certain repugnance at biting squirmy, leathery flesh. But it worked.
The imp squealed and let go. As for me, I licked monster blood from my lips. Tasty. I’ll admit what followed next lacked finesse. Blame my suddenly roused hunger. I could only imagine the healing of my many wounds threw my body into blood craving overdrive because I urgently needed to drink. Needed it so badly that I somehow, with an ease that seemed impossible, began plucking imps from the air. Snare, bite, suck, toss, grab a fresh one.
