Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
After a few hours, I stop and rest. I’m sweating, shaking, nauseous. I throw up the contents of my stomach, which isn’t much.
Withdrawals.
Unfortunately, this isn’t like before. I’m getting colder by the minute. Weaker, too. Is it because Benicio bit me so much?
He said he would never hurt me, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t kill me. I could die a thousand times from his bite and never feel anything but bliss. A bliss I need…
Focus, Lake. Focus.
“She is close. I smell her,” says a faint male voice.
I hold my breath and listen. Whoever said that is near. I start running again, hoping I’m going in the right direction.
I pump my arms and legs, ducking under branches. The sounds of animals are all around me, screeching and howling. I’m getting the feeling that whatever’s following is getting help from something in the trees.
Is it that little troll?
I keep going. Don’t look back. Just run. Just run—
The ground abruptly gives way, and I fall twenty feet, landing in a shallow pool of brown water.
I gasp for air, my heart pounding, but I try not to splash. I wait and listen for the voices, but it’s footsteps I hear.
They’re close. Right above me.
I duck down in the murky water, holding my breath. I’m winded from running, but maybe whoever’s up there will take a quick look in this pit and keep moving. How the hell I’ll get out, I don’t know.
Unable to hold my breath any longer, I push to the surface and gulp for air, finding a circle of dark red faces staring down at me. They have horns and sharp teeth. No hair.
Devils? No, no, no…
Hours go by, and any hope of waiting them out is dying with the last of the sunlight. I tried fighting my fear and telling them to piss off, but that did nothing but bring more.
I don’t get it. Whoever was chasing me before spoke words. These devils just shriek and howl.
Wet and cold, I start shivering. Part of it’s the withdrawal. My veins burn for him. The other part is something horrifying and bleak: me.
I don’t know if it’s the effect of being away from the Blood King and his hypnotic presence, but my mental fog is lifting. With it, I see the truth of what’s really happened to me.
My arms are bruised and scabbed over, which I already knew, but this is something different.
Just earlier today, I told myself I’d lost a little weight. Not true. My arms are like pencils, and when I touch my sides through my wet shirt, I feel ribs.
How could my mind tell me I’ve only lost “a few pounds”? I don’t know, but it’s a miracle I’m still alive. Or made it this far. The cold hard truth is that even if I make it out of this pit, I won’t make it to the wall. I’m a skeleton.
I look up at the shadowy faces encircling the edge of the pit. Their horns create a surreal sunflower shape with the final rays of sunlight above them.
“What are you staring at, huh? Are you waiting for me to die? Come down and get me, you big pussies.” I must be delusional. Picking a fight with a pack of devils is suicide. But what else am I going to do? I don’t want to die a slow death down here, my mind haunting me, tormenting me with fear until my heart gives out. I’d rather go quickly.
“Come on!” I yell. “Aren’t you hungry? Look at my yummy chopstick arms. You want some, don’t you?”
The devils disappear.
Where did they go?
I listen for sounds over the thumping of my struggling heart. It’s quiet up there. Too quiet.
Did I scare them off? Maybe they don’t like being out at night.
“Hey! Come back here and eat me!”
Suddenly, there are noises—grunts and cries of pain. More shrieks and more grunts. Loud thudding sounds, too. Boom! Boom! Boom! The ground quakes beneath my wet boots, causing the water in the pit to splash around.
A new face peers over the ledge above, and I narrow my eyes, attempting to make out the shape against the darkening sky.
Pointy ears. White with black polka dots. Huge eyes. “Master?”
What the hell is Grandma Rain’s dog doing here? Bard must’ve brought him. Bard came to find me!
“Master! Ohmygod. Where is—”
“You found her. You did good, Master,” says a deep familiar voice. A large head eclipses the shadowy outline of the Great Dane and stares down at me. “Hello, Lake. You are one hard woman to find.”
“Alwar?” Like my Paris dream, he’s not who I expected.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I don’t know why Master is here, but I can guess why Alwar, the ex-king of Monsterland, is looking for me, his proxy.
The question is, am I better off dead than with him, or will Alwar show mercy and let me go home, considering I was on my way to warn him?