Shadow's Kiss (Monstrous Hearts: Fleur's Story)

Chapter Five

Fleur couldn't stop screaming into her gag while the others surrounded her in a loose circle. When Mason approached, her struggles against the rope tying her into place turned into frantic writhing. He just set the skull between her legs, turning it so that the empty sockets stared at her.

As he returned to his place in the circle and took a book bound in worn leather from Hayley, Jace muttered, "Are you sure this will work?"

"As long as she fits the requirement," replied Mason. He opened to a specific place in the book while Cameron drew things in the dirt around the bed. "What do you think, Cameron? Is she a virgin? You're the expert at popping them."

"Believe me, no one would touch this bitch," muttered Cameron.

Fleur shrieked and pulled at her restraints again. She was so scared she could barely breathe, but instinct kept her trying to escape when Mason began reading from the book in a language that she didn't understand. Strange words washed over her, feeling like ghostly fingers tugging at her hair and clothes. The sense of time running out was suffocating.

Somehow, she kept her head clear enough to notice how the rope on her right wrist was fraying against a jagged piece of metal. She began sawing through it with quick, sharp jerks of her hand, hoping it wouldn't be noticed if she kept kicking her feet hard. Mason and the rest were too busy passing around a grimy goblet and drinking from it to notice her struggles.

When they were finished, Mason poured the remaining contents in the cup onto Fleur's face. She didn't think it was possible to scream any harder, but her voice rose to a new pitch as blood choked and blinded her.

As she shook her head, trying to clear her eyesight, she heard Mason say, "Okay, babe. It's up to you now. Go up through the stomach to reach the heart. Make this sacrifice for Satan, and your dearest wish will come true."

Even with her blurry vision, the dagger in Hayley's hand gleamed in the firelight.

Then something snapped near Fleur's right hand. She prayed it was the rope and yanked even harder. It gave way—and so did some of the bed. Wood splintered. Then her hand wriggled free. Coughing, stomach twisting in cramps, she turned enough to yank at her left hand. The wood gave with a groan, and she found herself holding a board that could be used as a club.

"Shit," said one of them. She thought she heard Hayley gasp.

She went after the nearest figure, which was Mason, swinging the board and its head of rusted nails at his leg. It caught him in the knee with a meaty thump, and he sank to the ground swearing, face twisted in rage. Her next swing was aimed at Greg, ripping into his thigh. His scream was louder than hers as she continued beating at the others until they flinched back.

Then she forced her body to scoot down the length of the bed until she could bend her legs enough to kick out against the posts. The rotten wood gave. By the time she was free, Hayley was already gone and the rest had jumped back out of reach. Then she saw Mason stagger upright, gaze lethal.

Fleur grabbed the nearest thing—an old shovel—and attacked him. The rusted metal head caught him in the leg and then the ribs with thick, meaty thumps. He tried grabbing the shovel from her, but she was wild, heedless, baring her teeth like an animal while continuing to swing at him, forcing him backwards. Neither of them realized he was backed up against the fire until he stepped in it. He screamed until she hit him in the stomach. At the sight of their leader burning, everyone scattered.

Fleur did, too, running for the cars. Just as she reached them, Jace barrelled into her, trying to wrestle away the shovel. The pressure of his body against hers felt overwhelming. If he managed to take it, she'd be dead. She spat and bit at him in desperation, making him flinch back. It gave her enough space to knee him in the stomach. He rolled away with a guttural cough—taking the shovel with him.