Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [35]
Get to the purse.
Beth kicked back viciously at Markko’s face and shoulders as she stretched for her purse, fingertips brushing the handle. The pepper spray she always carried was just out of reach.
Just as her fingers brushed the straps of her bag Markko got a solid hold on her left calf and wrenched her toward him. Twisting, Beth glanced over her shoulder and smashed her foot with all the force she had into his face. Bones crunched beneath her shoe, his grip loosened and he howled in pain.
Now.
Move.
Beth pushed her knees beneath her and dove for her purse, fingers closing around the cold cylinder of the pepper spray.
“Bitch!” The words slurred out through wet, raspy breathing.
Fumbling with the safety latch on the spray, Beth struggled to her feet. Why do they make these things so damn hard to use? While focusing on getting the safety latch to open, she was unprepared for Markko, who grabbed her by the hair and jerked her back against him.
“You bitch, you broke my nose.”
Warm blood smeared across her skin where he’d spoken against her ear. Disgusted, she tried to drive her head back into his face.
Ducking his head to the side, Markko pulled her tighter against him, his arm snaking around her throat. Bordering on hysterical, Beth gripped the can of pepper spray in her fingers and stabbed it into his face, hoping to catch an eye. The blow glanced off and cut him high across the cheek, impacting bone and breaking the safety clasp.
Markko grunted and relaxed his grip enough for Beth to move. She plowed her elbow into the animal behind her, broke loose and lunged forward. When Markko made another grab for her, Beth turned and fired the spray directly at him.
A cloud of pepper spray erupted into his face and billowed out, burning her eyes and tearing at her lungs.
Go.
Beth stumbled past Markko as he slumped to the floor, choking and tearing at his eyes.
Get to the door.
Keep moving.
Beth repeated the mantra as she tore through the door, tears running down her face, muscles shaking with fear and adrenaline. Half blind and panicked she took the stairs too fast, her foot catching a loose board halfway down and pitching her body into open air.
The last half of the staircase beat the air from her lungs before she stopped against the side of the house. Beth fought the darkness clouding her vision and the searing pain in her side and forced herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the side of the house.
No time.
Move.
She blinked the tears out of her eyes and stumbled.
Get to the street.
Get help.
Vision still hazy, she plowed around the corner, straight into something huge and solid. Large hands wrapped around her shoulders, steadying her and keeping her on her feet.
“Beth?” Braden’s voice, warm and concerned, shot a spike of fear straight through her.
What is he doing here?
Frantic, Beth tried to pull away from him.
“You have to go!” Desperation tore the words from her throat. She had to get him back to the car. Markko would be down the steps any minute. God only knew what he’d do to Braden. Brushing his arms away from her, she pushed against his chest. “We have to go, now!”
“Jesus, you’re bleeding.” He tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her closer, fingers carefully prodding the blood on the side of her face.
“It’s not mine.” Beth yanked her arm from his grip and tried to pull him toward his car. “We have to go.”
“Damn it, Beth. Talk to me!” He planted his feet and pulled her back around.
“Shit! Braden, behind you!” A guy from Braden’s car screamed the warning.
Too late. Markko stood behind them, face bleeding and eyes streaming, anger radiating off him in waves. As he sucked fresh air, he raked his gaze from Beth to Braden, brutality twisting his face.
“Edwards!”
The shift happened faster than Beth thought possible. In the time it took for Braden to pull her toward him, Markko had transformed and lunged, ears back and jaws snapping.
Beth braced for the full impact of the charging wolf. Instead, Braden shoved her away from him, her feet leaving the ground before she slammed into the