Veined (A Guardian of the Angels Novel) by Anyta Sunday Page A

hair, yanking it till her neck was exposed to him, then he leaned forward as if to whisper in her ear.
    Shock poured down my throat like acid. So that was what had come up. He really didn’t care about me at all.
    Attic’s head snapped up and he looked into the rearview mirror. Even in the dim light I could see the blueness of his eyes. They were staring straight into mine. I took a step back to disappear in the shadows, but I knew he could still see me. The mark on my back pulsed faster than my heart, and with every beat I felt a tremor of electricity course through my bones.
    I continued to stare. What a hell of a day . So many questions, and being with a floozy was more of a priority? Tears streamed down my face. Before the coma, I hardly ever cried, and now . . . now I seemed to be making up for it.
    I’d never moved more fluidly than I did just then, but I’d also never wanted to get away so badly before. The zigzag path, now only a couple of strides away, was my illuminated exit sign.
    “Lark. Wait,” Attic shouted, and I slowed a fraction of a second at something in his tone. If I hadn’t been so upset, I would have stopped. But my anger spurred me on and I ignored him.
    In the valley, I twisted and turned down streets that would distance me the most from the lookout. And when I was out of breath and my sides pricked with stitches, I forced myself to sprint a few hundred meters more. Finally, I crumpled onto a grassy verge and curled into a fetal position.
    It couldn’t have been more than a minute before I heard a voice. It was low, oddly excited, and I thought I detected an undercurrent of a growl. “You’re a pretty one.”
    I scrambled to my feet. Across the street under the light of a lamppost was a man, not much older than thirty, heavily built with black leggings and a shirt showing his intimidating muscles. His mouth curved into a smile that could have been beautiful if I hadn’t looked into his eyes. They were unmistakably hungry, and he ran his gaze up and down me as if I were the most delicious thing on the menu.
    He clicked his fingers, making a snapping sound that echoed in the crisp air. Out of the shadows behind him, four similarly clad men emerged. My stomach lurched and I wished these men were just another hallucination. But they weren’t and I knew it.
    The leader reached out, stopping one from stepping ahead of him. “She’s untrained, left here like bait.”
    Bait? Untrained?
    “A trap?” asked a man with thick eyebrows to his left.
    “Maybe.” The leader cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at me. “Who’s with you?”
    I knew I should have run away, done anything except for stand there, but my legs may as well have been tree trunks, the way they were rooted to the ground.
    “Who’s with you?” The leader roared it this time.
    I hoped someone in the street heard him and had a mind to call the police. My upper body started to shake. I bit my tongue and clenched my fists to control it. The last thing I would do was let them know I was frightened. In the steadiest voice I could manage , I said, “Stay the hell away from me.”
    “She has a temper.” Thick Eyebrows licked his lips and my gaze dropped to his hand caressing the hilt of a knife.
    I swallowed.
    “She’s frightened. I can smell it. I think she’s alone.” The leader took a step onto the street and the four behind him did the same. It reminded me of birds flying in a flock, only they were five huge men with weapons.
    “You think we could play with her first? If she’s untrained we could have a lot of fun.” The man at the far back of the pack thrust his hips forward as he said it.
    Laughter passed through them like a contagious cough. My stomach swirled and I wanted to be sick. I had to do something to get out of here, and fast. Flexing the muscles in my legs, preparing myself to run, I scanned the street using my peripheral vision.
    Twenty meters back in the direction I’d come from was another