Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [111]
This time, no one was there to step in. My hands shot up to protect my face, but I was too late. At first, everything went dark—just for a second, a calming, dead blackness. Then the pain exploded across my left cheek like a flashbulb, popping and leaving spots in my vision. The taste of my own blood filled my mouth as my teeth cut into my own cheek.
I pressed my palm against my cheek, but it only made the throbbing worse. And then there was more pain—a familiar agony as Anthony’s hands closed around my neck, his fingers twisting the chain that held my pendant. The thin silver links cut into my skin like wire, more effectively choking me than he could do with his hands alone.
I wheezed, my fingers feeble as they searched my throat, trying to pull the chain off me. I could feel my eyes straining as my fingers felt numb against my own skin. Then sudden relief—the chain snapped, my medallion dropping to the floor with a metal plink before rolling away.
My knees crumpled and I fell over on the stone ground, choking for air as the panic began to shake me.
Angelique had said we’d know the threat, the danger, because I’d somehow lose my pendant. The danger was here. The medallion had snapped off, rolling away to wait for my soul when it came to reside in a new body.
Because I was about to be killed.
I screamed as loudly as I could with my rough voice, trying to call anyone’s attention.
I pushed myself off the floor, but Anthony grabbed my upper arm, flinging me against the wrought-iron bars effortlessly. My right shoulder took the brunt of the blow, throbbing until it was eclipsed by another strike, a sickening ball of pain in my stomach as Anthony smashed his fist into my torso. I blindly aimed for his throat, throwing all my weight into a punch that only connected with his shoulder. He barely felt it. I fought back, hitting, pulling his hair, scratching his face, punching his nose, his throat—anything I could get—but my weak efforts seemed to just fuel Anthony’s rage.
Then another flashbulb blow—everything was dark a little longer this time, and when the explosion flashed before my eyes, it was sharper, more painful. Louder as it reverberated within my head.
“Emma!” I heard the voice, through the bright flashes of pain. It was dim but it was there. And then the bursts of pain stopped as I grabbed onto the metal bars, keeping myself standing.
I forced my eyes to focus. Brendan and Anthony were twisted on the ground, Brendan on top of Anthony, pinning him down like he had in the quad. Only this time, Brendan wasn’t hesitating—his knuckles connected to Anthony’s face with a quick motion, the brute force behind it evident when I heard a sickening crunch. Blood flowed from Anthony’s broken nose as he screamed in pain.
Brendan didn’t stop his assault, landing another powerful punch right in Anthony’s face. Fueled by his own agony and bloodlust, Anthony kicked wildly, causing Brendan to lose his balance and his grip. The monster’s oversize fist sliced through the air, striking Brendan on the right side of his chin. Brendan pitched forward, and Anthony took advantage of his distraction, leaping up and kicking Brendan in the stomach. He groaned, and Anthony raised his leg, ready to stomp on Brendan’s head. From his prone position on the floor, Brendan kicked Anthony in the back of the knee, knocking him off balance so he stumbled forward. Brendan heaved himself off the stone floor, this time landing a fast punch in Anthony’s stomach. But Anthony took the hit well, slamming his beefy fist into Brendan’s chest and causing him to falter.
Frantically, I looked around for a weapon. I wiped the blood out of my eyes as I searched for something, anything, to hit Anthony with, to incapacitate him. He wouldn’t be able to hurt Brendan. He can’t hurt him.
I saw something shiny glisten in the distance—my cell phone. I ran for it, falling on my knees and dialing 911.
“Help, we’re up at Belvedere Castle in Central Park, we’re being attacked! The guard’s unconscious, help us!” I screamed into the phone before dropping it, leaving the