Bitten 2 (29 page)

Really?
Now
he calls?

Keeping one ear cocked to listen for the faint shuffle of a foot, or menacing hiss, I swiped a grimy thumb across the screen and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Holbrook greeted, sounding tired but relaxed. “How are you?”

“Umm... fine. You?” I asked, glancing around me to peer into the darkness.

“Tired and ready to come home. It’s been insane here with non-stop meetings and training. Besides, I miss you.”

“That’s cool,” I murmured, only half listening to what he was saying.

“What have you been up to?” he asked, his voice sinking into the warm, honeyed Southern drawl he got when he was half asleep. “Besides, missing me of course,” he added with a rumbling chuckle that would have my heart thump in desire if I wasn’t distracted by the imminent danger lurking somewhere close by. The sleepy tone of his voice conjured up a mental image of him stretched out on his hotel bed, one hand curled behind his head on the pillows to highlight the swell of his bicep, while dark stubble clung to his chin, and his eyes were hooded with sleepiness. It was enough to make a nun renounce her vows.

“Ah... not much,” I hedged as I struggled to decide if the distant glimmer I saw was a figment of my aroused and overworked imagination, or something much worse.

“Riley? Is everything okay?” Before I could answer, he went on, “Are you mad I didn’t call on Valentine’s Day? I wanted to, but it just ended up being one thing after another. By the time I had a minute to myself I was too exhausted to do anything except get off my shoes before I passed out.”

“It’s not that...” I replied, though the small lump of rejection still hung like a lead pellet in the pit of my stomach, flaring white hot with bitterness at the thought he might not be as invested in our relationship as I was. Then again, I wasn’t even sure if what we had
was
a relationship. There had been no discussions about exclusivity or commitment. For all I knew, I could have been one of a handful of girls he was dating.

Now you’re just being an idiot,
the wolf snapped, rolling her eyes at my pity party. Beyond the fact that now was not the time to wallow in self-pity, deep down I knew that Holbrook wasn’t the kind of guy to behave in such a douchey way.

“How about I make it up to you when I get back? Homemade lasagna and garlic bread. If you ask nice enough, I’ll even make my Nana’s cheesecake I keep telling you about.”

The mere mention of his grandmother’s famous New York style cheesecake was enough to momentarily distract me from the threat of an enraged vamp creeping ever closer in the dark to tear out my still beating heart.

“With strawberries?” I heard myself ask and smiled when I was rewarded a second later by his deep laugh. Damn, it felt good to hear that rich laughter rumbling in my ear as if he was lying next to me in the dark.

“If that’s what you want.”

I could think of that, and several other things, I wanted from him, but they’d all have to wait. The unmistakable
plink
of a rock being disturbed sent a flood of terror through me with enough force to knock the air from my lungs as surely as if someone had punched me in the stomach. The sound had been close, too close, and I knew without a doubt that the gleam in the distance was definitely not the product of my nerves, but rather the twin silvery eyes of the vamp hunting me.

“Fuck me!” I swore under my breath.

Growing breathless in the way that I knew meant his cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushing crimson, he said, “Christ, Riley. That’s so not fair.”

I knew I should be terrified, but the rumble of his voice triggered an automatic reaction low in the crux of my thighs, made all the more powerful by the adrenaline racing through my veins.

“This isn’t a good time.”

Watching those disembodied eyes creeping forward inch by inch I felt my heart clench with fear.

“You’re telling me,” Holbrook murmured, and I heard the rough sound of his hand rubbing the stubble on his cheeks.

“No,
really,
this isn’t a good time. I’ve got to go,” I whispered, levering myself up into a crouch while racking my brain to figure out how the hell I was going to get out of there with my throat intact.

“What? You’re kidding, right? What’s going on?”

Whatever I had been about to say died on my tongue as the enraged vamp launched out of the shadows and towards the small pool of light cast by the phone pressed to my ear. Bounding towards me with outstretched hands curled into claws, madness gleamed in his liquid silver eyes.

“Crap! Gotta go, crazy vamp trying to eat me,” I blurted, lurching to my feet.

“What?”

“Bye Holbrook. I love you.”

“Riley? What’s hap—”

Hanging up, I propelled myself into motion, sprinting down the tunnel, my heart thumping in time with the footsteps pounding behind me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I spared a thought to wonder if I had just told Holbrook that I loved him. I could only hope I lived long enough to hear him return the sentiment.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I’M GOING TO die here,
came the unwelcome thought as I ran blindly through the maze of tunnels below Asylum.
And when I do, I’m going to spend my afterlife haunting Chrismer,
I added. The image of her smug face in my mind lent me another burst of energy as I fought to outpace the vampire behind me.

It was a futile hope, and fate decided that it had toyed with me enough when I came to yet another intersection and, in a moment of indecision, waited a second too long. Starbursts filled my vision and pain bloomed in my face as I was driven face first into the wall. The sound of my face slamming into the bricks reverberated in my skull long after the collision, and my eyes filled with shocked tears. Not wanting to do the crazed vamp any favors by letting him pummel my face into the wall, I turned to press my back to the bricks. Blinking away the blurriness in my vision, which was either tears trailing down my cheeks or a steady trickle of blood from a cut on my forehead, I was granted a clear view of the vamp as he reared back, yellowed fangs bared, in preparation to strike.

I wanted to get away, but it was like watching a car crash in slow motion, and try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get my limbs to respond to my mental commands. Pain flared white hot in my awareness when his mouth closed over the meat of my shoulder, piercing the skin. I gagged at the scent of half-decayed things and fresh, spurting blood.

My fingers, curled into claws, scrabbled at the vamp’s shoulder to push him away, but my actions were about as effective as pushing against a brick wall. Although he smelled like he’d been left to rot in a basement a hundred years ago, the flesh under his shirt was solid. I could feel corded muscles moving beneath ice cold skin as he gnawed at my shoulder like a starving dog with a bone, each scrape of his fangs against my collarbone sending shocks of agony through me. There was no doubt in my mind that if I didn’t do something soon, he would bleed me dry.

At a loss for any other ideas, I did the only thing I could think of, and, pouring every ounce of strength I had into the motion, drove my knee upwards into his crotch. Undead or not, I’d yet to encounter a guy that wouldn’t react to a knee in the family jewels. Thankfully, the deranged vamp was no exception. A puff of death scented breath wafted into my face as he let out a pained exhalation, his jaws snapping open in surprise and releasing their hold on me as he slid sideways to the floor.

Clamping one hand over the warm trickle of blood from my shoulder, and using the other to brace myself against the wall, I drew my foot back and let it fly in a fair imitation of David Beckham. The impact of my foot against the side of the vamp’s head wasn’t as pretty or graceful as I could have hoped, but it got the job done, and I watched in satisfaction as he slumped over onto his side with a groan. I wasn’t sure I had the energy to go another five feet, let alone wander endlessly in the subterranean prison I’d stumbled into, but I knew I had to keep moving if I wanted to find a way out. Lurching into a wobbling run, I left the groaning vamp behind.

* * *

I had to compress my lips into a tight line to keep from crying aloud in relief when I rounded yet another corner and came face to face with a rust-speckled, but solid looking, door. There was even a glowing exit sign above the doorframe.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Dumbstruck, I moved forward like a puppet on a string, refusing to acknowledge the spark of hope in my chest as my fingers closed around the door handle. Tears of relief flooded my vision when the handle gave no resistance and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Hesitant to step through the doorway without being certain of what I might find inside, I maintained my grip on the door handle and leaned into the doorway. Bare bulbs encased in wire cages illuminated stairs leading upwards, their light as bright as the summer sun after the darkness of the tunnels. There appeared to be several landings with similar heavy doors interspersed at regular intervals, and I was sure that one of them would lead to freedom.

My feet felt as if someone had tied weights to each of my ankles and strapped a bag of rocks on my back. Exhaustion was a painful glow in my muscles and a raw burn in my throat as I pulled myself up each step to the first landing. Werewolf endurance could only get me so far on an empty stomach and little sleep.

Unlike the door at the bottom of the stairs that bore only a smattering of rust, the one I stood before now had more rust than paint, and looked like it hadn’t been touched in over twenty years. Defeat hung sour in the back of my throat, but I stubbornly held out hope as I reached for the handle and tugged.

A shower of flakes, the same color as old blood, rained down on the concrete at my feet, but the door didn’t budge an inch.

“God damn undead shit sucking sons of whores!” I growled, my voice ringing in the confined space, sounding hollow and tinny.

Leaning my forehead against the pock-marked surface of the door, I listened to the echoes of my curse fade away into silence as cold and oppressive as the defeat wrapping cruel fingers around my heart. The last echo of my outburst died at the same instant I caught the unmistakable sound of the door creaking open below. Fear stole the breath from my lungs as it flowed like ice through my veins. I turned and moved to the railing as if the floor was made of delicate pressure sensors. Peering over the edge, I looked down at the vamp moving in slow circles at the bottom of the stairs like flotsam circling the drain. The sound of my curse had drawn him into the stairwell, but he’d yet to figure out where I was. I watched him turn around and around with the shuffling, searching gait of a dementia patient.

Well, at least I’m not dealing with the blood sucking equivalent of Einstein,
I mused, easing back from the railing to take a cautious step up.

A strained balance of urgency and caution fueled my steps as I crept up to the next door and tried the handle. The growl of fury burbling in the back of my throat was held at bay only by the pain of my teeth pressed into the thick flesh of my tongue.

Locked.

Of course it is.

I was tempted to scream, but with a vamp just two floors below me, I knew it wasn’t a viable option even if it would help relieve my frustration. Instead, I crept to the railing to check on the undead stalker below. Whether it was the culmination of my fear and exhaustion, or just a testament to my usual gawkiness, the sound of my shoe striking the edge of the rail chimed loud as a bell in the silence. I thought I might puke when the vamp’s colorless gaze swung up to me, pinning me in place. A rasping hiss chased away the fading echoes of my clumsy gong, and the vamp darted for the stairs.

All traces of the confused, shuffling husk were gone, replaced by the swift movements of a true predator as it raced up the stairs towards me. Shaking off the paralysis caused by fear, I lurched away from the railing. My knees screamed in agony as I pounded up the stairs, my footsteps echoing in the tight stairwell, thumping in time with my frantic heartbeat as I pushed myself to move faster. My lungs burned with each rasping breath I sucked in while dark spots flickered at the edges of my vision.

I seriously need to cut back on the cheeseburgers,
I thought as I reached another landing, pausing long enough to try the door handle, only to discover it was locked like the others.

I was beginning to think that I would never find a way out of the spiraling stairwell, or I’d reach the top to find the way barred with no escape from the death climbing up behind me. Dismissing such fatalistic thoughts lest they slow me down, I powered on, propelling myself up one step after another.

The last door loomed ahead of me like the waiting arms of death, and with tears in my eyes I reached for the handle, bracing myself for the crushing disappointment if it didn’t open. When it turned beneath my fingers, my terror-numbed brain almost couldn’t process what was happening, and for a second I stared in shock at the door swinging open. Jolted out of my haze by the vamp’s animalistic snarl chasing me up the stairs, I burst through the door, wincing at the booming echo of it striking the wall, and stumbled into the dark parking garage.