Page 29 of Bite Back
DELILAH
My breaths come out shaky and uneven as I approach the address I gave Luka. About a block away, I slow my footfalls and steady my breathing. Each silent footfall feels like a promise, a vow that this time will be different. Different from the last time I saw Luka.
My fingers clutch my phone in my pocket, and I pause to punch a few buttons. A bead of sweat, turned icy in night air, slides down my spine. A shiver runs through me. I’ve got to keep it together.
The shadows welcome me as I survey the scene in front of me.
It’s a playground. A rusty chain-link fence and dark bushes surround the perimeter.
I wanted somewhere empty. My ears strain.
The subway rumbles beneath me. Wings rustle as a crow lights on to the fence, beak sharp and fierce as a knife.
A faint squeak sends my gaze flying towards the swing set.
There.
His back’s to me, shoulders rounded and hands thrust into his pockets. The trees and shrubbery between us make it difficult to be sure, but he seems to be alone. I brush aside a branch, holly leaves pricking my palm. Yes. He’s alone.
I creep closer, choosing my footsteps carefully, picking around the patches of rock and gravel on the ground.
I hold my breath as I duck beneath a hole where the fence curls upwards.
Branches and spiked leaves scrape my arms as I inch closer.
My teeth dig into my lip as my torso navigates the space between two large bushes. Almost there.
Mulch still coats the ground, carrying the faint whiff of dog urine. Trees branches block my path forward forcing me to crouch down. I pick my steps slowly, holding my breath. A rock crunches beneath my foot.
Shit.
Luka’s head whips around. I freeze, willing the shadows to cloak me.
Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be lucky. A moonlit glow surrounds him, and shadow obscures his features.
Seconds stretch into an eternity, and my muscles scream as I remain as still as possible.
He stands poised, stock still, like a hunting dog that just caught a scent.
A blur of motion barrels towards me.
For a fraction of a second, moonlight spills across his face. Rage contorts his features, his normally smooth brow furrowed and his lips lifted in a snarl.
Time moves in slow motion as my fingers skim the mulch below me and scoop a handful of it up. Wildly, I fling a handful of the chips towards Luka’s head.
He flinches as the spray collides with his face, slowing for a moment.
He growls, forearm scrubbing his vision clear.
My gaze flicks left and right, weighing my options.
Left positions me in the bright moonlight while right offers the cover of shadow.
I dart out, eyes fixed on Luka. A snarl rips from his lips, animalistic and inhuman as he whirls towards me.
His momentum propels us backward, slamming me into the posts of the swing set. The metal smarts even through my leather jacket, stealing the breath from my lungs. Dazed, I gasp for air, struggling to inhale.
The structure rattles from the force of the impact, swings swaying wildly and hinges groaning.
My chest heaves. I finally manage a shuddering breath, cool night air flooding my lungs. Luka’s pressed against my body, trapping me against the metal side support with his weight. His hands fist the collar of my coat, pinning me in place.
A sneer twists across his face, fangs bared.
He rears back as though to go for my throat, and I kick out, my foot colliding with his shin.
A grunt leaves his lips and he stumbles back, yanking me forward by the jacket, like a rag doll.
I flail, arms and legs slapping and kicking and clawing and tearing.
My fangs make contact with his hand, drawing a spurt of blood.
My finger claws a line down his neck, more liquid spilling across my hand.
But I’m too close to get a good purchase as he holds me close, his breath hot and fast in my ear.
“It didn’t have to be like this, you know.”
I cough out a laugh, sputtering. “It didn’t have to be like this? You played me, you used me, you left me. You sold me a love story and then left me to pick up the pieces when you got what you wanted.” I spit the words out, punctuating each point with a blow.
It’s Luka’s turn to laugh, a dead, hollow thing. “Love stories don’t last.”
His hands leave my collar and grasp the chain securing the swings, tearing it from the set and advancing toward me, metal twined around his palms. I step backwards, but then he’s on me again, reflexes lightning fast.
Cold metal wraps around my neck, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. My hands fly to the chain, fingers scrabbling trying to get under to find purchase, release, pull, something, anything. Stars explode across my vision, and a metallic ringing echoes in my ears.
I feel detached from my body, as though I’m floating.
He can’t kill me, some part of me observes, clinical. Not like this. But if I go unconscious, it’ll be an easy next step to burn me, stake me, or decapitate me.
Darkness dances at the edges of my vision as my hands scramble upwards, reaching, searching for what I need. Elation surges through me as my fingers close around the metal bar.
The cool kiss of metal feels like salvation as I grasp it, bend it, and yank it free. The piece splinters off with a satisfying groan.
It won’t have the same effect as ash wood. But it’s something. I bring my makeshift weapon back and drive it home, stabbing it into his shoulder.
His face twists. For a moment, the chain loosens and I gulp down a gasp of air.
His hands tighten again, an amused smile flickering across his face. “Clever.” His chuckle fills my ears as the darkness encroaches. “You know, this was entertaining. Better luck next time.”
Everything goes black.