Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [60]
“I wonder…” His gaze traveled curiously over his fingers as he flexed and curled them. “I wonder. Hands in place of teeth. Human instead of beast. How does it compare?”
Liz forced herself to slide away from Rachel, groping the earth behind her as he lunged. Her fingers curled around wood as he overwhelmed her, forcing her into the forest floor.
“Lucky you’re here, no?” He smiled at her, every bit the animal that had murdered Rachel. “Which kill will I enjoy more?”
Calloused hands wrapped around her throat. Liz slammed the stick in her hand as hard as she could against his side. He laughed as it broke like a twig against rock. His grin widened and his grip tightened, seizing the air from her lungs as she kicked wildly beneath him, groping the forest around them with blind hands.
“This is good.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Your panic…” He groaned and thrust forward, the proof of his sadistic excitement brushing her thigh.
Her fingers curled around smooth stone, frantically digging at the edges, prying it from the earth.
“Your blood struggles beneath my hands. Hers spilled against my tongue. Will it taste the same?” He tilted his head and his face shifted, lengthened and pointed into a grotesque combination of man and wolf. He forced her head to the side, dove forward and buried long canines into the juncture of her shoulder and neck.
Pain and fury surged from her throat as teeth tore into her flesh. Liz slammed the rock into the side of his head with all of the remaining strength she possessed. His hands immediately retracted and she sucked the cool forest air into her lungs as she swung again. He toppled sideways, groaning in pain instead of pleasure. She rolled to her knees, struggling for breath as the world spun around her. She didn’t wait for it to stop.
She swung.
Again.
And again.
Until he couldn’t laugh. Or groan. Or move.
***
“Was he dead?” Braden asked.
“I…” Beth’s voice cracked. She took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth, willing the metallic tang of blood from her memory. “I don’t know.” A tissue pressed into her palm. “I don’t remember a lot after that.”
“How did you get out of the woods?”
Beth struggled for the details. She remembered walking. Frozen and numb for what felt like hours. But that was all. “I don’t know. I found a road. All I remember after that is headlights bearing down on me.” Breaks squealing and people shouting frantically emerged, then faded into her memory. “Everything’s blurry for almost a week after that. I must have answered some questions. They were able to find…they found her. Put me on a plane home. Other than that…”
She jerked her arm away from the hand Braden extended. He’d tried a couple of times to touch her or comfort her as she relayed the story. Each time, she’d jerked away from him. She’d seen his expressions. She knew it hurt him.
I don’t care.
“You were hospitalized for some time…” Mr. Edwards’s voice trailed off. He’d been a calm, steady influence through the entire conversation. “We understand you spent some time being treated for mental wounds.”
Beth laughed, harsh and grating. He put it so delicately. “They thought I’d lost my mind.” She’d been manic in her insistence of what had happened. “I swore to everyone who would listen that Rachel had been murdered by werewolves. Everyone thought I’d suffered a psychotic break.” Beth struggled to regain the artificial calm that had blanketed her as she’d told the story.
“That must have been very difficult.” Mr. Edwards replaced the tissue she’d shredded with a fresh one.
“Yeah.” The hardest part had been seeing the Colliers’ horrified expressions. Watching Mr. Collier’s eyes shutter as he comforted his wife every time she sobbed when Beth had to be sedated for another paranoia-induced rant. “They admitted me for my own protection. It took weeks before I was calm enough to start therapy.”
“They talked, over and over and over again, about how I was blurring two events in my head. Said I was trying to rationalize the trauma.” She rubbed her arms and wrists,