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DANNA
Emmie’s shrill scream pierced through the night air and yanked me back to consciousness. I’d been dreaming… something. Blue eyes still hovered in my mind’s eye, but the sound of shattering glass shoved it away, and I was fully in the present.
“Emmie!” I croaked and jumped out of bed. I ran to her room.
On the way, I was tackled from the side into the wall. It knocked my breath out of me. I scratched and clawed at my attacker. It had to be a man, judging by the size of the large body that pinned me against the wall and the grunts and groans that came when I scratched deep grooves into a cheek, punched my other fist into ribs, and tried to jam my knee up between the legs.
He closed his legs and jutted his ass backward, and I scratched again.
Blood welled up under my fingers, and the man cursed loudly. When he stepped back, I went feral and attacked him, still scratching and clawing.
“Get her the fuck off me!” he growled in a voice that was too deep—it didn’t sound natural.
Someone else appeared.
“It’s just a woman. Get your shit together. Pussy.”
The other guy had Emmie in his arms. He pinned her body against his, and a mouth clamped over her mouth so she couldn’t scream. She wriggled in his arms, her large blue eyes rolling in their sockets, her skin pale with fear.
“Emmie!” I yelped and lunged toward the guy who had her, but someone grabbed my hair, and I yowled when he yanked me back.
I hit the floor, hard, and my head whipped back. I saw stars, and my vision blurred. I was unable to do anything.
The guy I’d attacked looked at me, and his eyes were the color of onyx. Blood ran down the side of his face, making him look even more terrifying. His features kept changing, as if the shape of his face wasn’t a set thing, and if I had to explain to someone what he’d looked like, I wouldn’t have been able to.
“Bring her,” the guy who held Emmie said and stomped toward the door.
My attacker grabbed me by the hair again and hoisted me to my feet. He grabbed my wrists and wrenched them together before he frog-marched me to the door.
“No funny business, or the girl gets hurt,” he growled at me in that still strangely deep voice, and I nodded quickly.
I swallowed hard. I wouldn’t let them hurt Emmie, no matter what.
“What do you want from us?” I asked when they threw Emmie into the back of a van.
“Shut up,” the guy sneered and pushed me in after Emmie.
I scrambled to my daughter and held her tightly, cradling her against my chest. She was crying.
“It’s okay, baby,” I said, rocking back and forth. “It’s going to be okay.”
I didn’t know that for a fact, but I would fight to the death to make it true for Emmie. No matter what it took.
Who were these guys? What did they want with me?
The van started moving, and we tumbled against the side as it took a sharp turn, speeding. My head ached like a bitch, throbbing sharply in my temples and dully at the back of my head where I’d hit the floor. I was starting to feel sick, too.
It wasn’t just the horrific driving; I was pretty sure I had a concussion.
“Here,” I said, moving to the corner of the van and wedging us into it to try to anchor us. I held onto Emmie.
“Where are they taking us?” she asked in a small voice.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I said. “But I’m here, okay? I won’t let them hurt you.”
Emmie nodded against my chest, and I willed myself to have that strength.
My vision blurred around the edges, and another wave of nausea washed over me. We took another turn, but I held us in place, and I didn’t let go of Emmie.
