Page 25 of The Red Room
Long, dark brown hair comes into view in my periphery as he leans forward, head craned above my left shoulder. Deep growls work their way up his throat until a sinister snarl leaves his partially open mouth. “I don’t like when people touch my things.” His voice is low but no less menacing.
Holy shit.This is bad. I knew already he was claiming me as hisdobychabut hearing out loud how he saidhis things, gives the Russian word a whole new level of terrifying. Long brown hair skirts over my shoulder blade, gleaming in the afternoon sun. The wooded smell of him circles around me like buzzards ready for their next roadside kill. God. This man, this monster, wants to chew me up and spit out something unrecognizable, and here I am about to compliment his fucking conditioner and cologne? What in the hell is wrong with me?
“You have three seconds to let go,” Nik says, leaving no hint in his tone for anything but compliance. “Three … Two …”
The man rips his hand back. Immediate relief sets in but I can still make out each of his fingers on my reddened skin.
“Look, I don’t want no trouble. We were just talking.”
Nikolai chuckles and the sound is enough to send ice through my veins. There’s no hint of amusement but a delighted savagery in it. A large, tattooed arm reaches over my shoulder, the tendons of his forearm flexing in small, braided cords.
Fear tramples the man’s face. “Please! I’m sorry!”
I, however, say nothing. I know what is about to happen. I’ve seen it before. Witnessed the viciousness Nikolai Vostik keeps under a calm and collected demeanor. He wraps his hand around the man’s throat before he can tuck tail and run and raises him off the ground with ease. He claws at Nikolai’s tightening fingers and wrists, leaving thick scratch marks as red as his pinched face. Strained chokes and gurgles escape him, andwhen I turn to peer up at the owner of Club Völk, the familiar onyx black has taken over each eye.
Running is unwise, the book in Lenny’s store had said.A wolf longs for the chase.Okay, so what the hell do I do? Stand here and watch him murder this asshole and then me for a two for one special? Not a fucking chance.
I run.
I run away as fast as I can, pushing aside anyone stupid enough to get in my way. The bag slaps at my thighs but I pay it no mind. Wind whips my hair away from my face, and among the shouts of the people I shove from my path, the distinct thud of a body meeting concrete echoes in my ears.
I don’t stop. No, I only push myself to pick up the pace. To put as much distance as I can between us. He’d have a difficult time finding me on such a crowded street if he were human, but unfortunately for me, this man isn’t. He is following me around the city with his fucking nose like a goddamn basset hound. Maybe this is why the book was so threatening. It warned not to try and run because a wolf will always find you. And so far, Nikolai has yet to disappoint.
There’s a small alleyway on my right, and despite the urge to keep straight until I can get back to my apartment, dead bolt the door, and push every piece of furniture I have against it, something tells me he’d have a harder time finding me in the maze of LA rather than giving him a neat line to follow.Twenty feet.I need to make a decision.Fifteen.There’s enough people to block him from seeing me take a quick turn, and I can always double back once I’m a few blocks farther. Ten feet. Shit.Time to make a decision Natalie.
Five.
Now or never.
I slip into the alley with a small pivot and continue my large stride. It’s darker than the rest of the street, the outlines ofpartially open dumpsters coming into view. Then, I stop dead in my tracks.
No.This can’t be fucking happening. The back of a building closes off the alleyway, staring down as if mocking me. I’m blocked in. It’s a dead end. Heavy, erratic heartbeats pound at my chest like a comically sized mallet. Sweat trickles down both my forehead and cheeks, building at the cotton neckline of my T-shirt. The dampened street noise picks up a notch as I take one slow step backward. Then another step. The sensation of a thousand ants scurries in the pads of my feet. And when I take the third step, ready to turn on my heel and make a run for it, I knock into something hard enough to sting my sore shoulders. It’s not a wall. No, walls don’t radiate heat and they sure as hell don’t have the sweet wooden aroma capable of sending shivers down each notch in my spine in a horrible sequence. The game of cat and mouse has finally come to an end. He’s found me, and I know no amount of screaming will stop what happens next in this dark alley hidden away from street view.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Natalia,” Nikolai says, his voice thick and playful.
Whoever is unfortunate enough to get chosen … they better get acquainted with the idea of a very painful death.Jesus fucking Christ, why did I think leaving my apartment in daylight would keep me safe from him?
“Nik—Nikolai,” I stutter, far too terrified to turn around and watch those golden eyes give way to the blackness hiding there. But then the book image slams itself to the forefront. It’s almost as if it was a premonition. A detailed drawing of how I would meet my end at the hands of the monster quite literally breathing down my neck.
Nikolai glides his fingers over my forearm, warming the skin all the way down until he stops at the bag on my wrist from Oddities and Curiosities. He gently removes it, and the plasticcrinkles as he inspects what’s inside. “Protect Yourself From The Supernatural in Twelve Easy Steps,” he says and gives a small laugh. “I take it you haven’t had the chance to skim through it.”
“Not yet,” I say through gritted teeth, dread draining the blood from my face.
“Shame.” His breath kisses my ears and the parts of my neck left uncovered by my tousled brown hair.
He isn’t attacking me. Gorging on my throat. He’s fucking toying with me. Playing with his food, as cliché as it sounds in my head. I can’t outrun him. I can’t fight him off. But I’m sure as shit not going to sit here and be mocked before I die.
“Just get it over with, Nikolai,” I huff out, clenching my eyes shut as unexpected tears make their escape.
Another laugh, and it boils the helplessness in my stomach to pure rage. He drops the bag and the book slaps against the cement. “Getwhatover with, Natalia?”
“Whatever it is you fucking followed me here to do,” I demand flatly.
Nikolai pulls back the hair covering my neck, and I suck in a sharp breath.Fuck.Is it going to hurt? Will it be the same way shark survivors say they couldn’t feel the teeth but the pressure? I don’t want to die, but it appears that choice is being made for me. I squeeze my eyes tighter, not wanting to see anything besides the small sporadic dots exploding in my vision. My body stills, and I ready myself for the inevitable. His mouth touches the base of my neck first, heating both my throat and eventually my cheeks. I wait for the teeth to slice through my skin, praying to whatever god will hear me. And just when I think a sharpened row of daggers will dig in next, his wet tongue swirls around my skin.
A soft moan escapes me, not out of pain, not out of fear, but … unexpected pleasure. My nipples harden to firm peaks, and he sucks the skin where my neck meets my shoulder andnibbles tenderly. Another moan breaks free from me, echoing into the silence of the alley. He isn’t sinking his teeth in. No. Nikolai Vostik, the man that has stalked me all afternoon, left claw marks on my door, turned into a goddamn monster last night, is kissing my throat. And while I’m still too frightened to move, I am fucking relishing in it.
He removes his mouth from my neck and brings his parted lips to my ear. “You still want me to dowhat I came here to do?”