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Refugee (The Captive #3) Page 33
Author: Erica Stevens

She didn’t hesitate as she raced across the room, grasped hold of the windowsill and plunged onto the porch roof. It creaked beneath her weight, and for a moment she hesitated, uncertain if the old wood would support her. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if the thing collapsed beneath her. It groaned again but held steady beneath her weight. Using her arms, she was able to maintain her balance on the steep pitch of the roof as she hurried to the back of the house.

She heard something beneath her and looked down to find two more creatures following her movements, eagerly jumping up and down as they waited for her to fall.

Reaching the backside of the house she plunged into another broken window. She was in another room which had a broken shower. She gave little thought to her favorite contraption as she pulled the bow from her back. Knocking two arrows against it, she used the tip of one to nudge the door open. She was able to stick her head out enough to see that there were four of them down the hall, beating on the door, pushing and shoving and grunting eagerly as they jumped on top of each other in an attempt to be the first one in. They would turn on each other if given the chance.

She turned the bow sideways, she had no clear shot at any of their hearts, and with two arrows she was unlikely to hit the heart anyway. But at least she would impair two of them, and perhaps the scent of blood would help them turn on each other. Aria used her elbow to open the door the rest of the way. Four heads snapped toward her as she stepped into the hall, took aim and fired.

A squeal erupted from one of the creatures as it stumbled back, an arrow imbedded firmly in its throat. Another one was brought to its knees by the arrow in its shin. Blood spurted forth but the other two did not go after their fallen brethren like she’d hoped. Instead, they focused more intently upon her; their eager eyes were like glistening rubies, their fangs hung over their lower lips as one of them shoved aside the creature she’d shot in the neck.

Aria swiftly pulled two more arrows and fired them rapidly. One was caught in the upper arm, it didn’t slow him even a little, the other arrow slammed uselessly into the wall. It quivered there for a moment, a trembling reminder of her error. Aria took a step back, needing to put more distance between them if she was going to get off another round. They raced at her as she fired. This time she hit them both, one was a deathblow that sent the creature scrambling back, howling in pain as it thrashed upon the floor. The other one was nicked in the ear, it didn’t even recoil as it launched at her with clawed fingers and an eager hiss.

She barely had time to toss her bow aside and grab hold of her stake before it was upon her. She fell back, bouncing across the sand as they skidded into a wall. The breath was knocked from her, stars burst before her eyes as her head crashed against the wall. Struggling to remain conscious, she managed to get her hands up between them as the thing lurched forward. It snapped at her, just inches from her face. It was strong, far stronger than her, and she could already feel the weakening in her arms as it lunged at her again.

Her fingers scrambled over the stake as she tried to twist it into an angle that would be beneficial for her. It was nearly impossible as the thing clawed eagerly in its excitement and bloodlust. Adrenaline surged forth; her survival instinct took hold of her, giving her a strength that enabled her to get the stake fully twisted around. The creature’s lurching momentum drove it into the sharp weapon.

Its scream pierced her eardrums, blowing her hair back as it wailed in agony. She turned away, horror filling her as it began to convulse before finally falling away from her. She couldn’t move, her back was pressed against the wall as her fingers curled into the thick sand.

As it went still, behind the revulsion and terror a strange sense of exhilaration surged through her. She had just beaten a vampire in hand to hand combat. Granted it had been an emaciated, weakened vampire but she had still defeated it, and she was alive.

She pushed herself up on the wall as Ashby yanked the arrow from the throat of the other one she had shot and drove it into the creature’s chest. He shoved the thing away and Aria was able to see that he had already dispatched the other one. Ashby’s gaze came slowly to her, his eyes were red, and blood marred his right cheek.

“You ok?”

Aria managed a small nod. “Yeah.”

He wiped the blood from his face, shaking his head as he surveyed the damage around him. “Impressive, but let’s not tell Braith about this.”

A low laugh escaped her; she sat up straighter against the wall. She was about to agree when a growl from her left froze the words in her throat. “Too late.”

The color drained from Ashby’s face as he took a step back. The hair rose on the nape of her neck as she slowly turned toward the stairs. She could practically feel the fury radiating off of him as her eyes latched onto Braith’s. He was imposing; his broad shoulders took up most of the stairwell. He was coated in blood. It stained his shirt and pants, streaked through his hair and was splattered across his face.

Aria was immobile, terrified by what she sensed inside of him. She knew he was wild and hot-tempered, but now he seemed utterly savage. His glasses were in place, but even behind the dark lenses she could see the shadowed hue of his crimson colored eyes. Xavier stood just behind him staring at her in wonder. Behind Xavier she could see William and then Gideon as he fought to shove his way past her brother.

It was the alarm on Gideon’s features that drove her to her feet. Unfortunately, she forgot about the blow to her head and became somewhat dizzy as she rose. She took a staggering step before falling against the wall. Ashby retreated further as Braith came out of the stairwell. She didn’t blame Ashby, she’d never been afraid of Braith before, was certain he would never harm her, but in this moment he was terrifying in his anger. That fury was not directed at her, but it was explosive and it was looking for a release.

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