He crouches down so he’s at my level, a foot away, wrists draped over each other. “The world. Your world, that is.”
I stare at him, at his perfectly put-together face. The man looks like an angel and a devil combined, the best of both worlds. I recall kicking him right in the nose, wishing I had my boots on so I could do it again.
But he doesn’t look like he’s been kicked in the face.
I remember blood.
He should be black and blue.
He doesn’t have a scratch on him.
“I hurt you,” I say hoarsely. “I broke your nose.”
“You did,” he says with a tired sigh. “But my nose has been broken countless times. Try not to feel too proud.”
I stare back at him, feeling all the anger seething through me, hot and rabid.
“Ah,” he says quickly, eyeing me. “There she is again. Do you know what you’re doing, Lenore?” I clench my teeth together, breathing hard, that anger building. “You’re becoming something you wouldn’t believe. In fact, I don’t know if I quite believe it myself. You’re full of surprises.”
“You don’t fucking know me enough to be surprised,” I sneer at him.
And before I can stop myself, I’m bringing saliva up into my mouth and I spit on him.
My spit lands right on his cheek.
He flinches, nostrils flaring, but his eyes don’t leave mine. He calmly reaches up and wipes the spit off with his long forefinger.
Then he sticks his finger in front of his mouth, lips parting, pink tongue sliding out, licking it off. His teeth show in a snarl, the sharpest canines I’ve ever seen.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
“You’re right,” he says. “But I will. Maybe it will be too late, but I will.”
He exhales, wiping his finger against his tailored pants.
And with him distracted, I take my chance.
Fueled by adrenaline, the need to escape, to live, I suddenly get to my feet and start running for the door, screaming.
I make it halfway across the room.
Then he comes at me from the side somehow, just a blur, his hand wrapped around my throat. He pushes me back, back, like he’s just gliding over the floor until I’m pressed up against the wall, my head smashing against it.
His grip tightens, almost all the way around my neck, and he’s holding me up high, several feet off the floor, my toes dangling, and I can’t breathe, can’t speak.
“Believe it or not, I’m a very violent creature,” he hisses as he leans into me, eyes burning. “I will not hesitate to tear your throat out with my own teeth, despite what I promised myself I wouldn’t do. If you want to test me, you will be tested, and you’ll fail with your life.”
My fingers go to his hand, trying to pry them off me, trying in vain.
“I know what I want,” he continues, breathing hard. “But frankly, you might not be worth it.”
But he doesn’t let go of me, doesn’t let up the pressure. I think he means to kill me right here, just like this, strangling me with one bare hand. He could break my neck with a little more pressure, and he’s staring at me like he wants me to die. I know he’ll enjoy it.
And yet there’s a small part of me that doesn’t want to give up.
That wants to fight back, even though I know it’s pointless.
There’s a fight coming from deep within me, from some dark well.