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"Let go of me or I'm calling the cops," I threatened, trying to look larger than I was.
Red-eyed Veggie Guy growled, low and deep. Like an animal. It sounded like he was trying to say date.
Wait, no. He was trying to say mate.
Mate? Wasn't that a British or Australian word for friend?
I really wasn't as up to date on slang from across the world as I should've been.
Suddenly, he released my arm, jerking backward and bending in half with a sharp snapping sound and a pained yell-howl. I tried to jump away from him, but my back slammed into the chest of another man.
"Grab Jesse and the girl. We need to move," the guy now holding onto me barked.
My shocked brain processed too slowly.
He threw me over his shoulder, jogging all eight steps back to the parking lot—and the lone big white kidnapper van parked outside the sandwich shop. I shouted for help as I fought to get free, but it was eleven at night and no one except the not-football-team was around.
The guy opened the door with one hand before he set me on the middle seat, then buckled me in and turned to help the other guys. I unclicked the buckle and lunged toward the door.
The guy caught me around the waist and dragged me back, buckling the belt again and holding it in place.
"You don't want to run right now," he warned, like he was on my side.
"Like hell I don't!" I ripped against the seatbelt, but he wasn’t fazed and it didn’t budge.
Animalistic groans, growls, and whines came from the back seat. I shuddered at the sound of cracking bones. My entire focus was on escaping, so I didn't look backward—didn't want to look backward.
"Drive," another guy commanded.
Someone hit the gas, and I slammed into the seatbelt hard enough to be glad I was wearing it as the van ripped around a corner.
A savage snarl met my ears, and I finally stopped fighting long enough to whirl around—
And what I saw made me want to vomit.
Veggie Guy—Mate Guy—was half human, half...animal?
Gray fur sprouted from his oddly-shaped limbs, those freaky red eyes staring at me as his body bent and contorted in another painful-sounding snap.
My voice shook as I asked, "What the hell are you?"
The guy holding the seatbelt answered with a grimace, "Werewolves."
