Bite Marks

Blood

I held my breath as his hand moved down from my breast to my hip. I could tell he was getting excited, the evidence was pressed firmly against my thigh. I could see absolutely no way out of what was coming.

I had always prided myself on my unbreakable survival skills, but I wasn't sure I would be surviving this. Miguel's hands kept roaming, and I fought to go back to the calm I had first experienced when Kelsey had left.

My eyes were shut tight, when I felt his fingers swiftly working my belt loose. He didn't even bother to pull my pants completely, off just roughly thrust his hand down them. Tremors started in my limbs, when I felt his fingers prodding me. There was a thin barrier of cotton between him and bare skin, but he was feeling for access.

Bile rose in my throat at his low moan. His fingers finally touched me and I lost it. I bucked against his grip, knife be damned. He struggled to hold me down without slitting my throat completely in the process. A thin trickle of blood made its way onto the table, but I couldn't have cared less.

"And here I thought you were going to behave. Naughty, naughty witch," Miguel tsked at me.

"Get your fucking hands off me."

The words came out a growl. There was a strength in my voice I didn't feel.

"Well, since you asked so nicely Dove."

Miguel turned me over so I was on my stomach against the table. His weight kept me pinned down. I could feel when he cut my wrists loose, but before I could move one of his giant hands captured them again. I struggled against his grip, but Miguel's strength was too much for me. Constantly as the mercy of the men around me, a fate I would never truly escape it seemed.

This time my hands were tied above my head, hooked to something on the table I couldn't see. I yanked on the rope to no avail. It wasn't budging, and now Miguel had use of both his hands.

He made quick work of my jeans. The denim and cotton pooled around my ankles and I was completely exposed. His weight still rested between my legs, and I couldn't get any leverage to kick out at him.

"You smell so lovely, Dove. Ripe with fear. It's a heady scent. I know now why the rogues couldn't control themselves with you. You smell so good I just want to take a bite."

His sentence was punctuated by the scrape of teeth against my neck. He pulled back only far enough to start unbuckling his jeans. My body flushed with heat, and I promised myself this man would not have me, whatever it took.

With his pants pushed down to his knees I felt his erection against me and I finally screamed. Not a scream of terror, but of rage. Miguel paused at the sound, his head pressed against my neck. I kept screaming, incoherent rage.

I felt it first in my hands, tingling, hot and cold. Then popping. When I looked up I saw claws. I smiled. The rope came away easily, and before Miguel could blink my hand was around his throat. I couldn't ever remember moving this fast in my life.

"I said for you to get your fucking hands off me."

Sharper teeth than I was used to stabbed at my lips, and my claws tore through his throat like butter.

He fell to his knees in front of me. Both hands were clutching at his throat. I had never seen so much blood in my entire life. My jeans were coated with it, but I pulled them back up and tightened my belt. I shrugged out of the tattered remains of my shirt, and looked down at my hands.

I remembered being at Aidan's, chalking this shit up to stress, but here I was again. My hands didn't look like I expected, they weren't a rough meld of animal and human, but instead looked smooth and almost natural. My fingers were thicker, my palms covered like the soft pads of a cat or dog. There was thick, course reddish hair covering my knuckles and the tops of my hands. My joints where all in the same place, but my fingernails were long, and thick, and deadly.

I ran my tongue against my teeth. My canine's too, had lengthened and sharpened. A gurgle from Miguel drew my attention. His throat looked like it was trying to heal itself. The skin had begun knitting itself back together, and the blood flow had slowed.

Oh hell no.

This time my claws hit spine, and with a wet sucking sound, and a sharp yank, I pulled back with a startlingly white bone in hand. The bone fell from my wet fingertips, and clattered on the ground. I immediately leaned over and threw up. There was no stopping it. Tears collected on my lashes from the force of my gags. I wanted to pass out. It seemed like the best idea, but I needed to get out of here.

I knew Miguel had friends. As if my thoughts had called them, two men walked in. Coming in from the same hallway I had used to enter this nightmare. Both were bloodied, with ripped clothes and panicked expressions. They stopped at the scene in front of them.

Miguel lay on the floor in front of me. Clearly dead, in a pool of his own blood. The first of the men whispered 'shit' and tucked tail and ran out the side door, but the other started toward me. I was high on adrenaline and disbelief, and I was ready for him.

His fist swung toward me, but I watched as if in slow motion, and ducked. His confused face was almost comical. I smiled showing off my new teeth, and he paled in realization. The girl he had watched come in here was not the same girl that would be leaving.

He pinwheeled back, off balance from his missed swing, trying to get away from me. I was fast, faster than anyone had a right to be, and I caught him by the shirt.

"Where do you think you're going?" I brought my face up close to his.

Some of his good sense seemed to return, and he grabbed my wrist, yanking it from the front of his shirt. He threw me to the ground, and made as if to kick me, but my claws sank into his calf before he had the chance. His growl was low and full of pain.

I rose up on my knees, and sliced my claws through his stomach. The stench hit me immediately. I had never smelled anything like it before, but I knew what it meant. I had punctured his intestines. The scent was so shocking that I was finally knocked out of my rage.

I fell back on my butt, and scrambled away from the man. He was lying on the floor trying to hold his internal organs in. If I hadn't just thrown up everything I had ever eaten I would have lost it then. I stood shakily.

I was covered in blood, drenched through with it. I could smell it, and feel it warm on my skin. My limbs wouldn't stop their shaking so I hugged my arms, belatedly realizing that the claws were gone. Had it not been for the gruesomeness around me I would have thought I had imagined them.

I had to get out of here. Blocking out the cries of my victim, I started an awkward jog toward the only exit I was familiar with. The hallway passed in a blur and before I knew it I was breathing in the cool night air. My feverish skin instantly cooled as the sticky wetness on me began to dry. I stumbled forward into the moonlight.

"Cassie!?"

My head snapped up, and all the air I had left me in a rush. Kane stepped toward me, slowly taking me in. I was standing there in nothing but a bra and jeans, covered in blood, and for once I was glad to see him.