Page 28 of Bleed with Me

Smoke stung my eyes and nose as someone pulled a gas mask over my face. Rough hands dragged me down, pinning me to the floor while laughter still tore from my dry throat. My ears buzzed, muffling the footsteps and voices around me. Only the distant crack of gunfire finally cut through the high.

I flinched when someone fired three more quick shots, instantly stopping my maniacal fit. My vision blurred behind the fogged visor, narrowing the world into a tunnel of smoke, light, and shadows. My mouth was painfully dry, my tongue sticking to the roof of it.

I pressed my hands against the wooden floor, pushing myself up, but the entire planet tilted, and my body leaned sideways. I hissed when my ribs collided with a piece of furniture, but the yelling and shooting forced me to try again.

“Stay down, Dorian!” a male voice commanded, pressing between my shoulder blades. I collapsed on the ground, groaning in discomfort. My skin was itchy under the mask; I couldn’t breathe properly, and panic seized my chest when another burst of gunfire erupted.

“Don’t kill her,” I mumbled, gulping the metallic taste of blood. I bit my tongue when I fell, but I didn’t notice the pain. My drugged mind drifted somewhere beyond reality, but one thought remained painfully clear: I couldn’t let Malin kill her.

I fought against the hallucinations and the dizziness trying to overwhelm me and focused on my speeding heart. That heart was crazy worried that Malin or his men would put out the fire in the most gorgeous eyes I had ever seen. That heart panicked at never having a chance to taste those delicious, teasing plump lips. So that same heart pumped adrenaline into my veins with enormous strength, pushing me to stop the guys who came to save me from hurting her.

Do something! The voice roared in my head, magnifying my panic. Call them off!

“Stop!” I yelled with all my might, but the mask and the sounds of a hunt blocked it. I tugged on the trousers, and my fingernails buried into the fabric on someone’s calf.

“Calm down, Dorian,” the man said, crouching down. “We’ll get you out of here soon.”

“No!” I shouted, grasping his arm and using it to lift myself.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, holding me by my shoulders because I wavered. “You’ll be home soon.”

“Stop the shooting!” I yelled, my throat burning, maybe bleeding. The sensation momentarily disturbed me because it felt as if a sharp shard of glass was stuck there. My heartbeat echoed in my ears, and my hands shook. “Stop it!”

The desperation over my inability to halt these lap dogs from chasing my villainess infuriated me and fueled my incapable muscles to cooperate even in my state. I gripped the man’s shirt on his chest, pulling him to me.

“Stop the fucking shooting!”

“Okay, okay, Dorian.” He raised his hands in surrender. Despite being the one holding the gun, he didn’t dare to oppose me. Through the intercom, he contacted someone. I didn’t hear the words, but the shooting immediately stopped.

Relief washed over me, and I skidded to the ground, barely conscious. Fighting for her survival drained me of all energy, and the adrenaline rush dissipated.

Finally, you incompetent idiot, the demon snarled at me, but I couldn’t argue with him.

My breathing was shallow, and my head hung low when my ears caught the familiar voice. A pair of hands cupped my mask, lifting my face, and I looked into the eyes I had known my entire life.

“Are you okay?” Malin asked, his voice laced with concern. Or maybe I imagined it because Malin had no idea what concern meant.

“I’ve been drugged,” I whispered, but he couldn’t hear me. The mask was an impenetrable barrier.

“Dorian!” he screamed, moving my head from side to side, but I was barely conscious. I couldn’t lift my arms to shove him away. I couldn’t flash him a deadly stare that would suggest I was fine. I couldn’t do anything but sit and hope he would call for help. And while I waited, listening to his deep voice coming from all sides and keeping me awake, a striking image of my villainess danced before my eyes, keeping me company.

I’ll find you, ma vilaine, I thought, admiring the vision my drugged mind created. She was stunning. The memory of her was unmatched by anyone I had ever met.

“Ma vilaine,” I mumbled, mentally rolling my eyes. “More like my wife.”

Why the fuck hadn’t Malin shown up sooner?

Nina

Panic strangled every rational thought as I scrambled up the muddy hill. My feet slipped beneath me, and my hands sank into wet dirt mixed with the blood dripping from my forehead. The wound wasn’t deep, but the impact had split the skin.

Gasping for breath, I pressed my hand against my bruised ribs and pushed myself up the slippery dirt, refusing to recall images from the house. My lungs were full of smoke, my throat burned, and my eyes stung. My mask cracked when I hit my head, sparing my face from the metal railing, but nothing could help Lucas from getting hit by a bullet from the maniacs chasing us.

Thankfully, the bullet had only grazed his shoulder. It bled heavily, but he could still move. We just had to escape the property and return to the city.

But it was the naive thinking of my gullible brain. Malin and Zyon came to save their brother, and they would never let us go without a fight. Still, we had to avoid a shootout. I had only two magazines, Lucas couldn’t fire with his injured arm, and my bow remained in the car. Fighting trained men with a knife would be suicide. Running was our only option.

“They stopped,” Lucas exhaled, looking behind at the property. The darkness swallowed us. There were no more flashlights or red dots from their rifles on the trees or bushes. A few times, bullets had only missed my legs by mere inches, and once, I literally felt one kiss my ear. Someone was an excellent shooter in this fucking blackness that didn’t allow a pinch of light to illuminate our path.