Series: The Un Series by Izzy Sweet
Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Unsure which terrifies me more, getting caught by someone from the Order or a vampire, I quickly unlock the door and get out of the car.
Slamming the door behind me in my haste, I wince, then hurry into the bus station.
The lights in the lobby still shining wicked bright, I squint my eyes and put my head down. Avoiding looking at anyone as I walk to the ticket counter.
Seated behind a pane of plexiglass, a man with glasses works on a crossword puzzle in the local newspaper.
Without looking up at me, he says in a nasally voice, “The last bus for the night left forty-five minutes ago.”
“What?” I gasp in shock.
The man’s eyes flick up to me and widen in surprise a second before they narrow in suspicion. “What did you expect? Everyone knows it’s too dangerous to run the buses this late.”
“But I need to get out of the city now!” I nearly shout at him.
“Why?” he asks, his nasally voice thickening with his suspicion. “You a runaway or something?”
Hitting too close to the truth for comfort, I sharply shake my head. “No.”
Scowling, he asks, “Then why do you need to leave now?”
Shifting uncomfortably on my feet, I say impatiently, “That’s none of your business.”
Rolling his eyes, he says, “Forget it. The next busses leave at dawn. Do you want on one of them or not?”
“Dawn?!” I repeat incredulously.
That would mean I’d be stuck inside this bus station all night…
The attendant nods his head up and down slowly and repeats like he thinks I’m stupid. “Yes. Dawn.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath and try to get a grip on my chaotic emotions.
Only to pop my eyes open when I hear a new, sly male voice ask, “Is there a problem here…” The blond man now standing right beside me smiles and pointedly looks at the attendant’s name tag. “Milton?”
“N-no, sir,” the attendant stammers out.
Frowning, I look at the newcomer. Wondering why he’s getting involved.
Dressed in a dark, well-tailored suit that instantly brings up memories of my father, the man beside me says, “Good. Then what’s the issue?”
“S-she w-wants to leave n-now,” the attendant answers.
Turning his attention away from the attendant, the newcomer finally looks at me, hitting me with the full force of his blue eyes. “You want to leave now?”
Remembering how my father was able to throw his money around to make things happen, I know men dressed like him tend to have power others don’t.
So I nod my head and answer, “Yes,” hoping he might be able to help me get on a bus somehow.
But then he runs his blue eyes up and down me in an appraisal that makes me uncomfortable. “Why?”
Shifting nervously from foot to foot, I grip the strap of my backpack tighter. “I just do.”
He stills in a way that causes alarm bells to ring in my head.
I take a step back and look toward the lobby doors. Considering how long it will take me to reach the car.
As if he can read exactly what’s on my mind, the man in the suit suddenly grabs me by the arm and asks, “Where did you come from?”
I immediately try to yank my arm back, but his grip is unbreakable.
He grins at me as if he’s pleased by my reaction. Then I’m suddenly surrounded by three other men. Three other men in suits.
The attendant jumps up from his stool and stumbles away from the plexiglass as one of the new men asks, “What do we have here, Sire?”
“I might be mistaken,” the man gripping my arms says, his grin stretching wider and showing the tips of his fangs. “But I believe we’ve finally found a soulmarked.”
“This is taking too long,” the Prophet sighs, giving me a brief reprieve from the electrical torture.
Before I can open my mouth to tell him something snarky, I’m jolting from the shock of the next blast of pain and thrown back into the past.
My memories of what happened that night rush past my eyes as if someone pushed fast-forward on my brain.
I struggle like a feral animal needing to be free against the group of vampires as they drag me out into the street and try to force me into a black car.
When my mouth fills with saliva and I bite the arm of one of the vampires holding me, their leader finally loses his patience with me.
“Enzo, do you have any of that shit your little toy loves on you?” the blond man everyone is calling sire asks irritably.
“Yes, Sire,” the man I just bit says.
The leader nods his head at me. “Give it to her. Maybe it will calm her down.”
“Can’t you just compel her to do what you want, Sire?” the vampire at my other side inquires as if he’s mystified by this entire situation.