“W-what about the race?”
His body tensed behind me. “Fuck the race,” he snarled. Then quieter, more to himself, he said, “There’ll be others.”
Not for you, I thought, but I kept that part to myself. Perfect. He was taking the bait.
He shoved through the back door and flung me hard across the concrete floor. I instinctively curled up the second I landed, my arms wrapping around my stomach. Old human instincts. Protect the wound. Protect yourself. But even as I curled inward, I could already feel it happening. The flesh around the holes had begun knitting itself together.
I lifted my shirt, staring in horrified fascination as my body repaired itself right in front of me, until a shadow swallowed the view.
“Yes, Olivia,” Manshu drawled.
I looked up just as his hand came down. Fast. Too fast.
I barely managed to throw myself sideways before his fist smashed into the concrete where my head had been.
Crack.
Chunks of cement exploded outward, and my breath caught as I stared at the crater. That would’ve shattered my skull.
My cheek still throbbed from being clipped by the hit, heat blooming across my face while ringing filled my ears.
Move. Move, Olivia.
I bolted. Speed carried me around the open underground space in wild zigzags as I bounced off walls, sharply changing direction every few seconds.
Not attacking, just stalling, giving myself enough time to heal. To survive until they came. Every instinct I had screamed for me to keep moving.
Once the sting in my cheek faded and the tightness in my throat finally loosened, I slowed to a stop and whipped around, searching the shadows for that asshole.
Nothing. No movement. No sound.
My eyes cut across every dark corner of the underground space, sharper now than they had ever been. Night wrapped around everything in crisp detail. I could make out cracks in the concrete walls, rust along pipes, and oil stains smeared across the floor, but still no sign of Manshu.
“Come on!” My voice cracked through the empty space, louder and cockier than I actually felt. “Don’t hide like a little bitch!”
Silence answered me until I heard a flapping sound slice through the air above me. I looked up just as Manshu dropped from the rafters, his hand shooting forward.
Agony exploded through my throat.
I choked on the scream as those long black nails punched clean through my neck. My body seized instantly. Air wouldn’t come.
“That should keep your mouth shut,” Manshu purred, watching me claw uselessly at his arm. His grin stretched wider as blood spilled down my chest in warm streams.
“Now,” he said softly, almost lovingly, “I’m gonna teach you what happens when you stop acting like a good girl.”
Fabric ripped, and the sound echoed embarrassingly loudly as he tore down the front of my shirt. I swung at him, but nothing connected. I tried kicking with my legs again, but still, nothing.
His arms were too long, so that every time I tried to hit him, he leaned back just out of reach while laughter spilled from his mouth.
“This is gonna hurt, Olivia,” he mocked. “But you’ll live.” His nails twisted in my throat, and my knees buckled. “That’s what matters, right?”
Dread and fear tried to clog up my mind, telling me this was the end, but I refused to go down this way, so I shoved those feelings aside. I was a supe. I could handle anything. I would survive anything he could put me through. It would be okay.
The second I find an opening, I’ll get away. I’ll run just like Calix told me.
A savage, brutal roar filled the space, and both our heads snapped sideways to see who it was. All I saw was a blur and a flash of ash-white hair before relief crashed through me so hard my legs nearly gave out.
He came.
