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The trunk? What the hell? The man holding my arm starts dragging me in the direction of the truck. I shake my head, trying to clear my vision, trying to see who these people are. When I look up, I see a group of men all in black hoodies. I can’t make out their faces, but I know right away that I need to get away from them.
“Help,” I croak out, then get louder. “Help!”
Something pushes against my head, and I realize it is a gun barrel against my temple.
“Keep quiet,” the man holding me hisses.
I freeze, but only for a second. My logic tells me that if they wanted to kill me, they wouldn’t be trying to take me instead.
“Help!” I scream again.
“Shut up, bitch!” Someone backhands me, and I taste blood.
“Don’t do that,” admonishes one of the men. “The Most High wants her in one piece.”
The one who hits me growls. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s get out of here, before . . .”
Then his head is gone, blood spraying into the sky. Time seems to slow for a moment as his body sags to the ground, and then everything erupts into motion.
“Shit! They’re here!” the man who talked about the Most High yells. He draws a strange-looking gun and continues, “Get—!” His voice abruptly stops as a hole appears in his chest where his heart used to be, the gun falling from his grip as he collapses.
Someone is screaming. I think that it’s me. The man holding me lets go, his gun clattering to the ground, and starts to run back to the truck, only to end up on the ground, his leg at an impossible angle, crying out in a horrible, animalistic way, before his screams stop abruptly as well. The last man starts running down the street when a shadowy figure appears in front of him, eyes glowing red.
“Going somewhere?” says an achingly familiar voice. Julian! How did he get here? Why is he here? I don’t even care. He’s here, and he’s saving me from this horrible kidnapping attempt.
The last man drops to his knees. “Commandant! Forgive me! Forgive—!” His voice suddenly silences, and the truck pulls into reverse, the getaway driver attempting to flee the scene. But the shadowy figure is suddenly in front of the truck, holding onto its bumper as its wheels spin uselessly. I watch in shocked disbelief as Julian casually flips the truck onto its side, the crunch of metal against asphalt echoing in the early morning air. He darts to the driver’s side door and reaches through the window, breaking the glass as he goes, and suddenly, blood sprays against the interior of the windshield. I drop to the ground, unable to stand any longer. My eyes blur with tears, and my breath is coming in short, panicked bursts. Suddenly, a figure is in front of me.
“Shh, Andi. It’s alright. It’s alright, I’m here.” It’s Julian. His eyes are still glowing slightly red, but they are dimming as he pulls me into his arms. He’s covered in blood from the spray, but I go willingly and blink away the tears so that I can see him. I relax into him, completely relieved. Safe, I’m safe. Then I look over at the wrecked car and notice for the first time that Jade is still buckled in the driver’s seat. Her door is caved in, and her head is lolled to the side, blood streaming down the side of her face. She looks dead.
“JADE!” I scream. “JADE!”
Julian keeps me away from the wreckage, but I struggle futilely against his hold. “Jade!” I cry out. “She needs help! Jade!”
“Sebastian will get her,” Julian says in my ear. “Stop struggling, Andi. I need to check your wounds.” Sebastian is here? I didn’t even know. That stills my movements, and I let Julian drag me to the side. Sebastian appears, moving with inhuman quickness to the driver's side door and tears it off the car with the hideous sound of tearing metal, revealing more of Jade to my eyes. There’s more blood, and Jade’s arm is at an unnatural angle. Julian moves in my line of sight, and I move my head impatiently to look around him. I need to see if Jade is alright, but Julian grabs my chin and shines his phone's flashlight in my eyes. I squint and squirm, but I can’t get loose. So I glance away from the light, and my eyes land on the bodies on the ground, my would-be kidnappers.
“You killed them,” I mumble.
“Not all of them,” he responds grimly. “I kept one alive for interrogation. But he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. How many fingers am I holding up?”
Thrown by his question, I look back at him and squint again. “Two?”
“Good, no double vision. You hit your head, but I don’t think you have a concussion.” He sniffs, and his eyes start to glow a little. “You’re bleeding, though. Where?”
“I don’t know?” I say dumbly. I think I’m going into shock.
He sniffs again and then touches the side of my head, and his fingers come away with blood. I reach up, too and feel the blood trickling down behind my ear. It’s going down my side as well, and a few drops fall to the ground as I move my arm. It’s profuse. How come I didn’t feel it before?
“You hit your head against the window,” Julian says evenly, sucking the blood off his fingers. “There’s a cut. Hold still.”
He comes and holds my head so that I can’t move, and in a moment, I feel him licking the cut on my scalp. What the hell? Feeding at a time like this? Then I remember there’s a healing agent in his saliva. Right. I would feel dumb if I weren’t so numb. He then licks down my neck and lifts up my arms to get the trickles of blood. It’s weird, but somehow strangely soothing, so I let him clean up the blood with his tongue.
“Commandant,” interjects a voice into our weird scene.
Julian turns, and I look around him to see Sebastian carrying Jade princess-style, but she’s still unconscious. My heart plummets. Is she really dead?
“What?” snarls Julian.
“Forgive me, Commandant, the witch is still alive, but bleeding internally. She’s in critical condition. What should we do?”