He stepped out. I could see his face, and the knife in his hand.
“Russell, what the hell are you doing here?”
He stared at my belly in disbelief, but the next second he was holding the knife up, glaring at me with all the hate in the world. I could hardly move, my body shaking. He was too close with that knife in my direction. I rounded the bed. I wanted to put something between us.
His eyes flared. “Don’t move, bitch!”
“Russell, you’re not thinking straight. Please. Put the knife down.”
“Now you beg, bitch? For years, I’ve worked so fucking hard for that job, and you come in for a couple of months and take away everything. You think I’ll just let you have it?”
“You can have the fucking job. I don’t want it. Take anything you want, Russell. Just leave us alone.”
“That simple, huh? What I want is to have you dead.”
The look in his eyes told me he’d lost his mind. No reason could work with him. “How did you get in here?” I tried to buy myself some time. I thought about telling Slasher, but I didn’t want to distract him. God only knew what was happening with him.
“I got some help. Our old friend Damien seemed to have disliked you recently.”
“Don’t listen to the devil, Russell. He’s playing you.”
“You would know. It takes one to know one.”
“Whatever he promised you in return, it’s not worth it. He’s lying to you. All he wants is my baby,” I sobbed.
“And he shall have it.” In a blur, he was coming at me. I bolted for the door. A heavy hand grabbed my hair and knocked me on the floor. I screamed, terrified for my baby.
Russell pinned me down and waved the knife at me. I pushed his hand as hard as I could. He slapped me and stabbed me in the chest.
“No!” I screamed, moaning.
He raised his arm once more, ready for another stab. I clutched my chest. Before his knife found my skin again, I shoved cross blade in his neck.
“You bitch,” he rattled, his awful blood splashing all over me. I dragged my back away from him, afraid he would topple on my belly, my wound searing.
He fell on the other side, and I crawled out of the room until I reached the stairs. Sobbing, I rose to my knees and held to the banister. I moaned loudly as I finally got up. My hand on my chest, keeping pressure, I went down as fast as I could.
I shuffled into Malcolm’s room and snapped the deadbolt. Then I told Slasher. As quietly as possible, I opened the windows, my body freezing in an instant, and waved at the only prospect out there. The young boy.
He ran toward me, his eyes wide at my wound. Then they turned black, and his fangs protruded.
“No, please, please. No,” I whimpered, stepping back. It was just my luck the only one left to help me hadn’t had his bloodlust under control yet. “Can you just get over yourself for a minute? I just need you to push the wardrobe and help me up the vent. That’s all.”
He snarled.
“No? Okay. Go back to whatever you were doing. Forget I asked.”
He hopped in through the window. It was just me and his fangs in the freezing dark.
I pressed the wound harder, trying to keep as much blood in as possible, and clutched my belly that was crushing my pelvis now. Through the pain and fear, my eyes darted around, desperate for anything to defend myself.
The boy’s nostrils flared and twitched like an animal as he approached me. My back stumbled upon the dresser. I grabbed something from behind me and hit the boy’s head with it. It didn’t even manage to push him aside. My legs wobbled. I was about to lose consciousness. Sobbing, I sent my goodbyes to Slasher and looked at the boy. “Please just don’t hurt my baby.”
Something hit the door from outside.
The boom seemed to have distracted the boy from my blood. His head whipped toward the direction of the sound, and it went returned back to mine, his face was normal. “I’m sorry, Miss Legend.”
“It’s okay,” I said in disbelief, my heart almost stopping. I held on to the last shred of sobriety in my head and told him about the wardrobe again.
