Bloodshed (Order of the Unseen, #1)(21)

“Alright, then.” With that, I release my hold on Kevin, and he creeps away, crawling backward. I slip my switchblade back into my pocket with a sigh. “Now I’m trusting you, Kev. It’s taking every ounce of control for me to not drain out every bit of your blood tonight.”

“You’re fucking crazy—”

“Crazy, or overprotective?” I ask, although it’s clearly rhetorical. “I’ll do anything in my power to keep that girl safe from guys like you. Anything. Do you understand?”

He nods.

“What was that?” I question, slipping my hand behind my ear and leaning forward.

“Yes,” he snaps. “Yes. I understand.”

“Great.”

Robby flinches as Jensen places a firm hand on his shoulder. Leaning down, he presses his mask against his ear, lingering there for a moment. “Move along, now, boys,” Jensen sneers.

And they take off running toward the woods.

“Text Micah,” I tell him.

He nods, pulling out his phone. “On it.”





CHAPTER NINE





QUINN





The Halloween punch did, in fact, pack a punch. Joker was right.

A thin film of fog creeps its way from the ground, surrounding everyone on the dance floor. Making my way to the center of the room, I sway my hips to the beat of the music, enticed by the strobe lights that seem to be coming from every direction. Lifting my arms into the air, and shutting my eyes, I submit to the new carefree feeling that rages through me.

Thank God for alcohol in social settings.

Suddenly, hands are on my waist, guiding me to the rhythm. I continue to dance, not giving any thought to the person behind me, until they slip their hands to the front of me.

Lower.

Lower.

Swatting them away, an uncomfortable feeling creeps up on me, although I pay it no mind at first. Until they grab onto me, forcing themselves against my body. Groping my breasts, trailing their hand down to my lower waist.

“Stop,” I rush out, trying to break free from their hold.

They breathe heavily against my ear. “You like it?”

“No, you creep,” I shoot back, trying to pull away.

But they’re too strong.

“No! No! Stop!”

Sloppily kissing my neck, they attempt to slip their fingers beneath the material of my corset. Finally, I break free from their grasp, bumping into several people dancing beside us. To my dismay, they ignore us entirely. My heart hammers. There are so many people. It’s so loud. The smoke is so thick, I can hardly see, let alone breathe.

Turning to face the person who would not accept no for an answer, anger and disgust consume me. He steps forward, reaching out for me again. Slamming my hands against his chest, I shove him away, and this time he gets the hint.

And it’s clear that he has taken offense to my rejection. His eyes turn dark. Cold. He becomes as still as stone. Fear settles in, and before I can even make sense of it, he’s grabbing a red solo cup from someone’s hand.

Within seconds, my upper body is drenched with beer. My jaw nearly drops as I stare at him in disbelief, horrified at the fact that he has just splashed a drink in my face.

“Bitch,” he laughs.

A tall, dark figure lurks from the corner of my eye. Suddenly, he has my assaulter on the ground, and he’s towering over him. Leaning down, he slams his black, gloved fists against his face, punching him.

Over and over.

He grabs him by the throat. “If you ever fucking touch her again, I’ll put you down like a sick dog.”

You can almost hear the crippling sound of his face crunching from each blow, as dark, red blood pours from his nose like a faucet.

The lyrics boom from the speakers, “I can’t wait to hear you, I can’t wait to hear you, scream.”

Everyone scurries out of the way, watching in horror and disbelief as the scene unfolds right before our eyes. Several people try to step in to help de-escalate the situation. Yet, as soon as they try to pull him off, he jerks toward them, taunting them.

They immediately step back, not daring to be his next target.

My heart is pounding against my ribcage, and I finally realize that this was all for me. He helped me. He protected me.

The outline of his backside is daunting. Primitive. It’s as if he’s hunting his prey, and he doesn’t stop beating him until he’s knocked out cold.

The tall, dark figure dressed in all black slowly turns to face me, and the moment I see the Scream mask hiding his identity, I’m left a hot, quivering mess.

There’s just something about this moment that mesmerizes me. He approaches me, now towering over my small frame. He’s at least six foot three, and even though the dark fabric of his costume hides his body, it’s obvious he’s built like a God.

He tilts his head to the side, studying my reaction, and my body reacts right on cue. My nipples pucker, straining against the material of my corset. My inner thighs become drenched. My face is flushed, and my breathing is labored.

“Thank you,” I unthinkingly say.

“His face!” A guy in cowboy attire shouts, kneeling over my assaulter, who is still unconscious. Bleeding profusely, might I add. “You broke his face, man! I’ll kill you!”

Ghost snaps his head in his direction.