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Refusing to surrender, I reach up and stab my fingernails into his leg until I can feel his skin peeling apart. He cries out in pain, his face contorting in agony as he trips back. Seizing the distraction, I smash my boot into his kneecap and the contact makes a sickening crack. He groans as he buckles over, grasping his knee.

"Ya stupid bitch," he seethes through gritted teeth. "I'm gonna make ya pay for that."

I launch to my feet, but I move too eagerly and tumble right back down. Gritting my teeth, I flip over, put most of my weight on my good leg, then gradually stand up. Once I'm fully standing, I hobble across the desert, leaving a trail of blood behind me.

"Ya ain't going nowhere!" the man shouts over a click.

I throw a glance over my shoulder and cringe as I see him reloading. Quickening to a sloppy jog, I battle the wooziness funneling through my mind and stomach, and run as fast as I can. What really makes me sick is knowing I already lived this scene before, but I can't recall the conclusion--if the guy captures me or not--so I'm left blindly running into the unknown.

The gun goes off again, and a bullet tears through my shoulder. As the wound sputters blood, I drop to the dirt, gasping for air.

I roll over and blink fiercely against the sunlight.

Get up! Get up! Get up!

I try to obey the voice, but my legs and arms remain limply sprawled across the dirt.

"Told ya not to run," the guy wheezes as a shadow casts over me. His face is screwed up in pain, his skin pale, and a glare is etched into his features. He stares at the blood spurting from my shoulder and leg then glances down at his knee. "Goddammit, I think ya broke my kneecap. Do ya know how much of a pain in the ass it's gonna be to get home?" His eyes blast daggers at me. "Guess, I'm gonna just have to leave ya out here to rot in the sun." Maneuvering his leg awkwardly, he plops down beside me and reaches for my face. "Such a shame."

I flinch as his fingertips graze my cheekbone and turn my head away from him. With his other hand, he roughly grabs my chin and forces me to look him dead in the eye. Then he leisurely traces his fingertips down the side of my face to my neck, collarbone, lingering on my shoulder.

"Such a pretty thing." He sketches a trail down my arm to my wrist. "Too bad you're gonna die. I coulda made bank on ya." He lines his fingers with my pulse, and then his thin brows pinch. "Awfully steady for a dying woman." He rotates my branded wrist upward, skimming his thumb along the inside of my wrist, causing a foul chill to coil across my skin. "Pretty little unmarked flesh."

Unmarked?

Angling my head to the side, I catch sight of my wrist. Nothing but a few clusters of freckles mark my skin.

This is before I was captured.

"Ya know what?" His eyes gleam with desire as his fingers roam toward the button of his pants. "I think after I'm done with ya, I'm gonna drag ya to the nearest channel and turn ya in for a reward." He flicks the button undone then drags the zipper down. When he notices my expression, a pleased smile lights up his face. "Yeah, keep looking at me with fear in your pretty little eyes. I think I like it." Keeping his bad knee locked, he slides his leg around then leans forward and places his hands beside my head, trapping me between his arms. His tongue slips out to wet his blistered lips. Then he lowers his mouth toward mine.

For a wildly, reckless moment, I contemplate allowing his lips to touch mine so I can suck his life dry until nothing is left but a bag of saggy flesh and broken bones.

Do it! Kill him! Make him hurt for what he's about to do to you!

I inhale deeply and crinkle my nose at the pungent taste of the man's life. He may be living, breathing, and moving around, but death has contaminated him. The taste of approaching death tastes bitter on my tongue and floods my lungs with a stench so potent that I dry heave.

"That's it," he purrs. "Shake with fear."

"No." My loud, steady voice startles us both.

He snarls, but then his gaze zips to my shoulder. "What the ...? How the hell did you heal?" He slants closer, getting distracted by the freshly grown skin over the wound.

Scrounging up every ounce of strength I have in me, I lift my other arm, bringing my hand around the back of his head and grabbing the back of his neck. I pierce my nails into his flesh and yank him back, but he whips his arm around, smacks my arm, and grabs a fistful of my hair.

"Nope. You're not gettin' out of this. Not after what I saw." Tugging at my hair, he clumsily stands up.

My head pulsates with excruciating pain as he yanks on my hair again.

"Let go of me!" I shout, kicking and writhing my body.

He laughs and starts walking, dragging me by my hair.

"Help!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I reach up and slap him in the back.

He lets out a grunt but doesn't glance back as he takes longer strides.

I fight for a few more minutes until he begins to whistle a recognizable tune. The same tune Blaise was singing earlier. Wondering if he knows Blaise, I crane my neck to the side to memorize his features. That way, when I reunite with Blaise, I can give an accurate description.

What if you never see him again?

Despair burrows through my mind as I turn back around and watch the red-tinted dirt and sparse, shallow hills stream by me in a lifeless blur. A memory of the first time I experienced this moment tugs at the back of my mind. Bit by bit, I start to piece together the journey I'm about to embark on and have embarked on before.

This is how I ended up in the channels. This man turns me in, and then the Grim kill him.

Knowing I'm returning to that horrid place ... to relive those wretched days of torture and depression ...

No ... I can't do it ... Not again ...

I dig the heels of my boots into the dirt.

I can't do it ...

Fight!

I scream until my lungs are on the verge of combusting, kicking at the ground. I reach my arms above my head, trying to force my hair to rip from my skull. I thrash around, hit the man in the back, kick at the ground--do everything and anything to get free. Nothing works, and all I'm left with is an aching hope that I'll starve to death before we get to the channels.

"Just a bit longer," the guy announces after about an hour goes by. "I'm pretty sure there's an entrance close by ... I just need to find it ... Oh, wait a minute, there it is." He

accelerates to a jog, and I jostle around, bouncing from side to side. "Hey! I got something for ya! It's real good, too!"

"If you come any closer, I'll have to snap your neck," an all too familiar voice proclaims, causing my capturer to stop dead in his tracks.

Lex?

God, no...

Heavy footsteps storm across the desert, growing closer, closer, closer. Fear chokes me, making breathing complicated.

"What do you have?" Lex asks as his shadow falls over me.

The man rotates around, gripping my hair tight as he gestures at me with his free hand. "Look for yourself."

Lex's face appears in my line of sight; soulless, dark eyes landing on me. His nostrils flare as he inhales. "Well, isn't this a divine scent. Almost as good as quercu ..." His chest puffs out as he intakes more air. "No ... Maybe even better ..." He tears his eyes off me and looks at the man. "I'll take her from here."

The man grins from ear-to-ear. "Not without my reward, ya won't."

One corner of Lex's mouth spasms. "Of course. And a fine reward it shall be." His mouth opens to a toothy smile, then his hands dart out and he encloses his fingers around the man's neck.

The man's eyes bulge as Lex lifts him off the ground by his neck.

"Help ..." the man gasps as he releases my hair.

The wind is sucked out of my lungs as I fall to the ground and on my back.

"Oh, I'm going to help you." Lex offers him one final grin before kinking his wrist and snapping the man's neck like a twig.

I scramble to my feet as Lex drops the man's lifeless body. I make it three steps before he catches my hair and hauls me against him.

"You're not going anywhere." He snakes his arms around my waist and holds me against him as he presses his nose to the side of my neck. Then he breathes in and lets out a euphoric exhale. "You smell delicious ... If it wasn't for the laws, I'd keep you for myself." He sniffs me again before scooping me up and slinging me over his shoulder.

"Let me go!" I shout, pounding my fists against his back.

He strides forward, unfazed. "Fight all you want, but this is your new home."

I fight harder, punching and screaming. Time is running out, and soon, I'll be a prisoner again.

Please let me die ... Please let me die ... Please let me--

Abruptly, a wave of numbness crashes over me, starting at my toes and swishing all the way up to the top of my head. A feeling of calmness blankets over me, but it gets chipped away by the feeling I'm being watched.


Tags: Jessica Sorensen Broken City Fantasy