Then his gaze fell on the door they led the women through. They’d locked it, but when he twisted his head to look back, he saw it wasn’t as solid as the gate he’d come through. Starvation caused his muscles to tremble, and his legs didn’t feel as sturdy as they should, but he could get through that gate. He knew he could.
Keeping one hand locked around the backs of her knees, he charged at the gate. Lowering his shoulder, he crashed into the door and threw all of his weight behind the charge. Metal bent and twisted before giving way with a wrenching screech.
He staggered forward when the door tore from its hinges, and he almost fell to the ground. Catching his balance, he managed to stop himself from going down as figures emerged from the shadows. Lucien snarled at the vampires coming toward them, and keeping his shoulder down, he charged at the first one who tried to stop him.
Callie cried out when the impact of hitting the door jarred her. She had no idea what was happening, but she would take her chances with the freak who bit her if he was trying to break out of this place.
He’d most likely try to kill her once they were free, but she had a better chance of surviving outside of these tunnels than she did inside them. Resting her hands on the small of his back, she pushed herself up so she could see more of what was happening.
The other four women had turned to stare after them; their mouths hung open as the monster carrying her stepped on the gate he’d destroyed.
One of the criers started to run after them, but before she made it more than ten feet, some of the people watching from above jumped into the pit. When their red eyes shone in the sputtering light, Callie realized her ride out of here wasn’t the only freak in this place.
The women’s screams abruptly cut off as guttural noises filled the air. Callie almost slapped her hands over her ears to block out the awful sounds of the feeding frenzy, but if she moved her hands, she would end up with her face against this thing’s back again.
She’d already been close enough to know she’d prefer not to be that close again. While he didn’t smell as bad as a full Porta Potty at a music festival in July, he wasn’t something to be savored either as the stench of B.O., dirt, and blood clung to him.
And she should know about those Porta Potties; she’d been to many festivals over the years, including Coachella, Lollapalooza, Stagecoach, Desert Daze, Firefly, Burning Man, and Bonnaroo.
Plus, she’d attended a lot of smaller ones near where she grew up in the Catskill region of upstate New York. She’d lived within a couple of miles of the original Woodstock site in Bethel, New York. She spent many summer days trudging or riding her bike down the steaming asphalt road with her friends so they could listen to the acts that arrived every summer to play at the venue.
When they were young, they never had the money for tickets, but they sat in the fields or woods outside the festival to listen. When they hit their teens, they would drive as close as they could before parking somewhere. They would walk the rest of the way with the alcohol they stole from their parents and the small bag of weed they’d purchased from the kid with all the connections at school.
Then college came, and they went their separate ways, but they still got together every summer to celebrate the anniversary of Woodstock. Except now, they could afford to buy tickets; they just didn’t. They returned to the woods to share their beer and pot while they discussed their lives and listened to the music flowing through the air.
Her childhood years had fostered a love of music in her, and she was determined to attend as many festivals as possible. She’d planned to travel overseas too; the Download Festival was at the top of her bucket list.
However, now she realized she might have run out of time to complete her bucket list. That knowledge didn’t help her increasingly queasy stomach. Memories of those simple childhood days flooded her mind as snarls and the stench of blood permeated the air.
A part of her realized she was going into shock, but she couldn’t stop her mind from traveling between the past and her horrific present. Part of her was coasting down a hill with her legs over the handlebars of her bike and her hair whipping behind her.
The other part was trying not to register the slaughter unfolding around her. She was becoming more like that woman who’d turned into a rabbit in front of the coyote, and she couldn’t allow it to happen.
No matter how awful this was, she would not spend what might be the last minutes of her life hiding. She shook away the memories and focused on the now. She almost retreated again when a shriek followed the loud snap of bone.
No matter how badly she wanted to hide from this awful reality, she couldn’t retreat. Retreating could mean death, and she’d never hidden before. Or at least, she hadn’t hidden until Carter walked into her life. And over the past couple of months, she’d grown sick of hiding.
She’d vowed never to hide again, and she’d meant it.
Lucien released the woman’s legs when a Savage leapt out of the shadows at him. His manacles rattled and clinked as he punched the side of the Savage’s head. There was a time when a blow from him would have knocked the asshole unconscious or, at the very least, caved in the side of its head, but he was too weak to unleash that kind of damage right now.
At least the manacles added weight to his hands and made the blow harder, but instead of going down, the Savage only staggered to the side. However, it was enough to get the creature out of his way.
Lucien grabbed the woman’s legs again and sprinted down the shadowed hall. He had no idea where he was going, only that he had to get her to safety. He couldn’t let her die in this hideous place.
But as that coherent thought blazed through his mind, voices started chattering at him again. Hungry. Eat. Feed. Drink her!
The scent of her blood was so enticing that he couldn’t resist turning his head toward her. He rested his mouth against her jeans before sinking his fangs into her calf. Like before, the sweet taste of her blood was ambrosia on his lips until stars exploded behind his eyes, and he felt as if someone had taken a stick of dynamite and detonated it within his skull.
He was certain his eyes were going to erupt out of his head as he released his bite on her.
I hurt her. Shit. I can’t hurt her!
The insanity, self-hatred, and hunger tearing at him made it feel like someone was digging their fingers into his brain and peeling it apart. What was wrong with him?
But he knew the answer to that. It had been too long since he’d fed; he was out of control, and for some reason, this woman affected him in a way no other ever had.
When the paralysis from her pain eased, Callie hit the asshole carrying her in the small of his back. She didn’t care that he was unstable and a sick freak who ran around biting people; she wouldn’t let him continue to abuse her in such a way.
Her fist connecting with his solid flesh made a thwack sound and caused her hand to sting, but he showed no sign that it affected him at all. He didn’t even grunt from the impact, which infuriated her as much as the fact he kept biting her.
Memories of the past swirled up again as she recalled the time her friend, Jeannie, bit the tongue of… of…
Callie couldn’t remember the name of the kid Jeannie bit, but they were playing spin the bottle, and he’d landed on Jeannie. Until then, they were only doing chaste pecks on the lips, but this kid was a couple of years older and a whole lot bolder. When he shoved his tongue into Jeannie’s mouth, she bit it.