Gaze (✔)

Chapter Twenty-One: Absconders

So just don't trust my ANs anymore :P I'm crap at updating.

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Bang!

Clara was jolted suddenly from her peaceful sleep by the loud noise, sending her heart into a pounding frenzy within her chest. She blinked a few times, trying to regain her grip on reality – just as something lunged for her.

Acting on instinct, she rolled over to the side – and straight off the bed. If the sound didn’t wake her up, the fall certainly did. With wide eyes and adrenalin pumping through her, she leapt to her feet and lashed out at the assailant that had taken her place on the bed, not recognising the dark haired, growling man.

She didn’t have time to think about who he could be – he leapt again, slamming her mercilessly against the wall before she could dodge him. Definitely a werewolf, she thought with a groan, feeling his claws rip through her T-shirt and dig into her side. Her training, although seldom used in the past few weeks, all rushed back to her, and she lifted her knee up to shove the attacker back, slipping out of his grip with agile movements.

In her split-second of free time, she assessed the room: on the other side of the bed, an angry and shirtless Wyatt was grappling with two men, all growling furiously. Just before she returned her attention to the wolf she was dealing with, she was pleased to see him easily take down one of them.

“I was trying to sleep, asshole.” Clara muttered, punching her attacker just as he straightened from her previous blow. She pressed her assault, knocking him down onto the bed and reaching out to grab a heavy-looking lamp from the nightstand. The wires were yanked out as she pulled it swiftly towards her, positioning it above her head in preparation to strike the werewolf in front of her.

Behind her, somebody grabbed her hands, using the momentum of the heavy lamp she held to send her falling to the floor, landing hard on her back. Her head ricocheted painfully against the wooden floor, but she recovered, rolling away as a black boot slammed down where her head had been moments before.

Clara scrambled to her feet, aware that her bag was just behind her. If she could reach it, she could get her gun –

There was no time. She staggered a step or two to the side as she felt the full impact of a fist to her cheek, followed by a blow to her stomach that nearly knocked her over. She was getting pretty frustrated of losing this fight, and let out an angry noise as she sidestepped another swing and shoved her full weight at the werewolf.

He stumbled back into his partner, disorientating the two long enough for Clara to kick them into the harsh corners of the nightstand. She returned her gaze to Wyatt, just as he threw one of the men into the wall. It cracked loudly, the sound splitting through the air and silencing the man’s growls.

With fast breaths and a racing heartbeat, she realised that these were Duncan’s men – they had to be. “Wyatt, we have to go!” she yelled, distracting him slightly from the other attacker at his feet.

After a few seconds of thought, he glanced out of the uncovered window. When he seemed to find whatever he was looking for, he nodded with a hard expression.

Knowing he would follow, Clara grabbed her backpack and ran out of the open doorway. She spotted the door itself lying idle near the bed – probably the source of the noise that woke her up. In the hallway, a quick turn revealed an angry-looking guy at the opposite end, striding straight towards her. She didn’t spare him another glance, but ran in the opposite direction.

Her numbness to the pain in her side started to fade, and she clutched it tightly, bloodying her hand in the process. Gasping for breath and feeling a little dizzy, she continued her sprint to the car, spotting Wyatt as he easily overtook her and unlocked the vehicle, just in time for her to collapse into the passenger seat.