A Darker Shade of Sorcery (Sample of now published novel.)

Chapter Twelve

I need to get away. I don't want to die!

She bit him savagely and he took his hand away with a yelp, almost losing his grip around her. Brooke tried to escape his iron clasp feverishly, kicking and screaming, her long nails scraping at his hands and gouging his arms.

He held on tight, but she refused to give up, sure someone should have heard her screaming by now. Someone will come to save me?

She heard laughter and thought it was the pale skinned leader until she saw him glaring at the blond boy. The blond stopped laughing and shrugged. "Sorry Arantay."

Arantay ignored him and placed a hand on Brooke's shoulder. At his delicate, icy touch she felt calm wash over her.

The sense of danger had left and instead of flailing in her captor's grasp, she hung limp and exhausted.

"Sssh," Arantay crooned, "we won't hurt you."

His tone was so reassuring Brooke felt convinced he was telling the truth. Though at the back of her mind she had a niggling sensation she was being tricked, that her emotions weren't her own, Arantay was influencing them somehow.

Now she'd stopped fighting, her burly captor lifted her up and carried her deeper into the alley.

"Why do they always act like that? I swear I didn't," the blond remarked. Neither of the other two replied. Brooke recognised the blond from somewhere.

Her kidnapper set her down gently, propping her up so she was sitting against the wall. Emotion flooded back as she realised her predicament, but when she tried to stand Arantay touched her again.

As Arantay knelt before her, Brooke noticed his pupils were vertically slit and his irises were just too red, like clotted blood.

It had to be the alcohol in her system making him so strikingly attractive. Up close, she saw he wasn't really feminine at all. His slender limbs were corded tight with sculpted muscle. His facial features appeared at once sharp and prominent, but also soft and delicate. His ears were pointed at the top.

He smiled at her again, and this time she knew it was to lull her into a false sense of security. Brooke couldn't ignore the gnawing sensation of danger at the back of her mind.

"It's alright, we're not going to hurt you," he repeated in his velvety voice. She felt her fears melt away and once again became fascinated with the creature kneeling before her.

"Ah, if only I had Arantay's seduction voodoo," she heard the blond say. "The possibilities..."

"Who-who are you?" She managed to get out.

"My name is Arantay."

"We gotta hurry, Tay," the burly one said. "It won't be long before her friends notice she's gone."

Alarm threatened to take over again.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Brooke mumbled, oddly overcome with weariness. Why was she outside surrounded by strangers? How did she get here?

The blond sniggered again.

Arantay shot a murderous look at him.

"Shut up, Lok," said the biggest of the three.

Lok grunted and strode back to the mouth of the alley to make sure no one else was in sight.

"Tyrell," Arantay urged.

Brooke couldn't understand. She felt so strange, something was terribly wrong.

The burly boy, Tyrell, nodded and took out a curious object from his belt. As Tyrell raised the object, Lok hissed from the end of the alley.

"Wait! There's someone coming."

The other two retreated to the back of the alley, where Brooke sat and Arantay crouched.

What the hell is going on?