Page 73 of The Hive Queen

The man lumbers forward, his large body filling the door before he bends to pass through. His eyes stare at me, unblinking, before he dismisses me and shifts his focus to Flint.

That buzzing sound rises once more, this time emanating from the newcomer’s chest. But not so bad that it debilitates me.

The man’s arms spread wide to grab my slender partner.

“What the hell?” Flint ducks under the reaching hands.

The man shuffles to follow, grabbing for Flint again.

Frowning, I step in front of him, blocking his path to Flint, and his steps stutter before he moves to go around me.

I side-step to stay in his path, and he moves to go the opposite direction, his eyes never focusing at me.

“Well, shit, it must be my witchblood drawing him.” Flint’s hand touches my back as he stays behind me. “He’s slow, though. Get us to the door, and we should be able to get away fine.”

I nod and continue circling, edging us toward the door.

The buzzing sound increases in volume, invading my mind once more, and my steps slow, my thoughts scrambling.

I shake my head, struggling to remember what I was doing.

A powerful hand sweeps me to the side, and my legs give out. I crash to the hard concrete, but the jolt of pain that streaks up my knees clears my mind.

Bracing my hands on the rooftop, I kick my leg out to the side, slamming my foot against the side of the man’s knee.

A loud crack sounds, and the man lists to the side, but he continues to lumber toward Flint, who looks dazed and frozen in place.

I bolt back to my feet. “Move your ass!”

Flint’s unfocused gaze shifts to me, and he sways in place but doesn’t move.

I race forward and tackle the large man around the waist, shifting him a few inches. My dress shoes skid on the smooth rooftop, the honey on the bottom making my traction even worse.

With a grunt, I drive my knee against his wounded leg, knocking him off balance.

He crashes to the ground like a felled tree, and I roll off him.

I rise to my feet behind him and slam my elbow just below his neck. His flesh gives a squishy pop, a rancid smell filling the air. The buzzing abruptly cuts off, and the man crashes forward face-first.

Bile surges up in my throat, and I stumble backward, my hand covering my nose.

Flint comes back to awareness with a shudder. “Oh, gods, what’s that smell?”

Apprehension fills me, and I step forward to bend over the man. I pull my phone from my pocket and use the flashlight as I tug down the back of his shirt. A red lump covers his nape, yellow pus oozing from the ruptured center.

Just like the infected bee sting I took Pen to the hospital for. If she hadn’t healed it with fire, how much longer would it have been before Pen would have succumbed to whatever happened to this man?

My hand shakes when I reach out to check the man’s pulse and can’t find a heartbeat.

I tuck my phone away as I straighten and turn toward Flint. “Can you sense his soul— Look out!”

My warning rings out too late as the person the honey first attracted comes up behind Flint and grabs hold of him.

This man is bigger than the first, with arms corded in muscle. He easily lifts Flint off his feet and turns toward the stairwell.

Flint struggles, but then that buzzing noise rises from his captor, and he falls motionless, dangling within the larger man’s hold.

I stumble forward, but the closer I get, the harder it becomes to move. The buzz vibrates through my body, disrupting motor function. I crash to the ground, the pain of landing not enough this time to break through the disorientation.

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