Page 34 of Cloak of the Vampire
But then I realized his eyes weren’t gray anymore but rather shining a luminous white that encircled abnormally small pupils, and nothing about him was normal when he suddenly crouched unnaturally on all fours like a beast waiting to pounce, with his clothes completely torn to shreds. His fangs were out, and drool dripped from his mouth to the floor.
“Aileen!”
I whipped my head around to see Cassidy running toward me, her green eyes bright with fear. But then Magnus was there, his lady companion nowhere in sight, and he grabbed Cassidy around the waist with such speed that she couldn’t have resisted even if she wanted.
She yelled something before being carried toward the exit by Magnus, finally snapping me out of my stupor. I turned my back to the man,creature, behind me and started running.
Far ahead, I could see Margarita and Logan. The female Lieutenant seemed to be arguing with my ex, her face livid, while Logan simplytook her wrist and headed to the doors. Magnus, with his arms wrapped around Cassidy, reached the exit too.
I was almost to the doors myself when I heard a monstrous growl behind me. A moment later, hands grabbed my shoulders, flattening me to the floor; then a strong, heavy weight pinned me down. For a split second, I saw Gus’s face before I felt sharp teeth,fangs, brushing against the skin of my neck.
Then I felt it.
Thepower. An undeniable force.
It commanded me to do its bidding as it snaked around me. Soon I could feel it down into my bones, a terrifying chill, an intimidating pressure that sucked the air from my lungs. This overwhelming force kicked my heart into gear, and it beat like a fluttering butterfly.
Both invisible and physical hands pinned me to the floor, not allowing for a fight or flight. All I could do was stay there, frozen to the core, forcing me to bear the unbearable, transparent, harrowing energy even if it swallowed me whole.
RUN! YOU HAVE TO RUN!
But I couldn’t run, wouldn’t have been able to run even if Gus wasn’t on top of me; this unfathomable pressure pasted me to the ground, torturing me with the fear and terror it inflicted.
Faintly, I remembered when Ragnor had given me the Imprint. It was just like that back then.
“Stay still, Henderson.”
Ragnor’s calm, cool voice pierced through the terror, and in a flash, Gus’s weight was off me, and his animalistic shriek reverberated through the hall.
His shrieks turned to horrible screams that curdled my blood, and I closed my eyes, teeth chattering. My entire body was wound up so tightly with the absolute, horrible need to flee, and yet I was unable to do so.
And just as abruptly as it came, it was gone—the oppressive, horrible agony; the powerful, invisible energy that had kept me still andengulfed me in terror—and like a soda bottle that had been shaken until its top burst, I stumbled onto my feet and started running.
I lifted my face and turned my gaze to see Ragnor facing the beast.
He grabbed the man-beast in a judo hold, his arm wrapping around his neck and his legs pinning his lower body to the ground. As his eyes burned neon blue, Ragnor’s sharp fangs came out, and he sank them into Gus’s neck.
And tore his head off.
Using only his fangs.
What the . . .
The twitching beheaded body of the man-beast spasmed for a second too long before it ceased to move. The severed head rolled on the floor, the radiant white eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, blood all over the face.
Ragnor spat out the blood, his face both grave and taut with anger. He untangled himself from the dead body and climbed to his feet, wiping the blood from around his mouth with the back of his hand. He then turned and saw me, eyes no longer glowing.
I simply stared at him, face slack with shock at what had just happened. So many questions ran through my head.
He started walking toward me slowly, cautiously, face clear of any and all emotion. He looked like he was approaching a wild animal that could flee at any moment. But since I no longer felt that horrible, cold force, I didn’t feel the need to flee either.
And while seeing him tearing someone’s head off—quite literally—made my blood run cold, it wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever seen.
Ragnor came to a stop before me and grabbed my hand. It was shaking.Iwas shaking. His free hand cupped the side of my face, gently tilting it until my eyes met his. “Are you all right?” he asked, voice low. “Did he hurt you?”
I searched his gaze just as he searched mine. I swallowed hard and croaked, “I’m fine.”
Using his grip on my hand, he pulled me forward until my head lay against his chest, and his arms wrapped around me, his other hand holding the back of my head close.
