Page 76 of Revenant

By the time we reach the door, we’re both slightly out of breath. While Mabel is gaining control of her body again, it’spainful to watch, like a tin man battling rusted hinges. As much as I want to urge her to hurry, I keep my mouth shut.

When I open the door, I come face-to-face with Hershamn.

I don’t even have a chance to open my mouth before he thrusts his hand out, plunging a needle into my neck. “I’m sorry, Miss Rue, but you’re too important to lose. We have too many things to discuss.”

My skin throbs where he injected me, and a burning heat spreads through my flesh. I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but no sound emerges. My eyes flutter shut, and I feel my body drop like the strings have been cut.

Mabel stumbles away from me, and I silently urge her to run. Maybe she hears me, I’m not sure, but Torris is at her side, practically shoving her out the door. She casts me a frightened look, then bolts down the hallway.

The doctor ignores her, because where would she go, right?

No, he’s too focused on studying me to be aware of the world around him.

Instead of falling unconscious, the instant I hit the ground, the world around me flips so fast that I fall through the floor and stagger, blinking in shock when I find myself standing in limbo.

Fucking hell.

Whatever was in the syringe was potent enough to have me hovering between life and death. I’m stuck in the afterlife, and I have no clue how to leave. When I try to reach for my body, it’s like something is blocking me.

I’m well and truly screwed.

I know better than anyone that if I can’t find a way back soon, it will die without me. Shadows shift in the darkness, and I gulp when I realize I’m not alone. Somehow, I very much doubt I will be able to banish the ghosts from this side of the veil.

If the ghosts get their hands on me, I fear that even if the guys find me in time, there will be nothing left of me to save.

Chapter Twenty-eight

GUNNER

We are sitting in the cafeteria, not speaking as we shovel food into our mouths, watching the guards from under our brows. Except for Jameson, who outright glares at them with a manic smile on his face, ready to do battle.

Crazy fucker.

I roll my eyes, but I recognize the insatiable craving for bloodshed. The same need is pounding through my veins. Maybe I should be afraid of my new strength. I’m so much stronger and faster than ever before that I accidentally tore a doorknob off the bathroom.

Instead, I’m glad.

Rue needs me to be strong if we have any hope of escaping our new accommodations. If this is the only way I can protect her, then so be it.

I’ll deal with the fallout later.

I continue shoving food into my mouth almost faster than I can swallow. Whatever changes were done to me, I can’t seem to keep enough food in my stomach. I’m constantly hungry. I’mnot sure if I’m gearing up for something or if this will be my new normal. I thought my calorie intake on the outside was crazy, but this is a new form of insanity.

A kick of discomfort thumps beneath my sternum, and a searing pain follows. I clutch my chest and glance down, almost expecting to find a gaping wound. When I don’t see any physical injury, I’m confused.

I look up and notice the guys have stopped eating, each unnaturally still. They touch their chests, furrows creasing their brows. Jameson is the first one to make the connection. “Pookie?”

In that instant, I know that our careful plan is about to go to shit.

I’m not even upset about it.

All that matters is that Rue is in trouble and she needs us. We all rise to our feet at the same time, and the rest of the room falls silent. The four guards watching the room stiffen, their hands dropping to the batons on their belts.

Without speaking, we split up and converge on them. I stalk toward the big fucker standing by the door. A scowl darkens his face, and he draws his baton slowly, then mashes the button until a zap of electricity crackles in the air.

He widens his stance, lifts the weapon, and braces himself. I march up to him without stopping and throw a punch. The man recoils, stumbling back two feet, his body shuddering under the impact before he collapses to the floor in a heap.

I’m not even aware that he hit me with the taser until the rod clatters to the ground. Glancing down, the front of my shirt is burned black. A quick glance through the holes in the material reveals clean, unblemished flesh.

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