Wicked Nights. Gena Showalter

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СКАЧАТЬ her mother and father and how wonderful they’d been… and… oh, she couldn’t stop it from happening…. Her mother’s image formed, taking center stage in her mind. She saw a fall of hair so black the strands appeared blue, much like Annabelle’s own. Eyes uptilted and golden, much like Annabelle’s used to be. Skin a rich, creamy mix of honey and cinnamon and without a single flaw. Saki Miller—once Saki Tanaka—had been born in Japan but raised in Georgetown, Colorado.

      Saki’s traditional parents had freaked when she and the white-as-can-be Rick Miller had fallen hopelessly in love and married. He’d come home from college on holiday, met her and moved back to be with her.

      Both Annabelle and her brother were a combination of their parents’ heritages. They shared their mother’s hair and skin, the shape of her face, yet had their father’s height and slender build.

      Although Annabelle’s eyes no longer belonged to either Saki or Rick.

      After that horrible morning in her garage, after her arrest for their murders, after her conviction, her lifelong sentencing to this institution for the criminally insane, she’d finally found the courage to look at herself in a mirror. What she’d seen had startled her. Eyes the color of winter ice, deep in the heart of an Arctic snowstorm, eerie and crystalline, barely blue with no hint of humanity. Worse, she could see things with these eyes, things no one should ever have to see.

      And oh, no, no, no. As the trust circle yammered on, two creatures walked through the far wall, pausing to orient themselves. Heart rate spiraling, Annabelle looked at her fellow patients, expecting to see expressions of terror. No one else seemed to notice the visitors.

      How could they not? One creature had the body of a horse and the torso of a man. Rather than skin, he was covered by glimmering silver… metal? His hooves were rust-colored and possibly some kind of metal as well, sharpened into deadly points.

      His companion was shorter, with stooped shoulders weighed down by sharp, protruding horns, and legs twisted in the wrong direction. He wore a loincloth and nothing else, his chest furred, muscled and scarred.

      The scent of rotten eggs filled the room, as familiar as it was horrifying. The first flood of panic and anger burned through her, a toxic mix she could not allow to control her. It would wreck her concentration and slow her reflexes—her only weapons.

      She needed weapons.

      The creatures came in all shapes and sizes, all colors, both sexes—and maybe something in between—but they had one thing in common: they always came for her.

      Every doctor who’d ever treated her had tried to convince her that the beings were merely figments of her imagination. Complex hallucinations, they said. Despite the wounds the creatures always left behind—wounds the doctors claimed she managed to inflict upon herself—she sometimes believed them. That didn’t stop her from fighting, though. Nothing could.

      Glowing red gazes at last settled on her. Both males smiled, their sharp, dripping fangs revealed.

      “Mine,” Horsey said.

      “No. Mine!” Horns snapped.

      “Only one way to settle this.” Horsey licked his lips in anticipation. “The fun way.”

      “Fun,” Horns agreed.

      Fun, the code word for “beat the crap out of Annabelle.” At least they wouldn’t try to rape her.

      Don’t you see, Miss Miller? one of the doctors had once told her. The fact that these creatures will not rape you proves they are nothing more than hallucinations. Your mind stops them from doing something you can’t handle.

      As if she could handle any of the rest. How do you explain the injuries I receive while bound?

       We found the tools you hid in your room. Shanks, a hammer we’re still trying to figure out how you got, glass shards. Shall I go on?

      Yeah, but those had been for her protection, not her mutilation.

      “Who goes first?” Horsey asked, drawing her out of the depressing memory.

      “Me.”

      “No, me.”

      They continued to argue, but the reprieve wouldn’t last long. It never did. Adrenaline surged through her, making her limbs shake. Don’t worry. You’ve got this.

      Though no other patients were aware of what was going on, they were all sensitive to her shift in mood. Grunts and groans erupted around her. Both men and women, young and old, writhed in their seats, wanting to run away.

      The guards posted at the only exit stiffened, going on alert but unsure who was to blame.

      Fitzpervert knew, pegging Annabelle with his patented king-of-the-world frown. “You look troubled, Annabelle. Why don’t you tell us what’s bothering you, hmm? Are you regretting your earlier outburst?”

      “Screw you, Fitzpervert.” Her gaze returned to her targets. They were the bigger threat. “Your turn will come.”

      He sucked in a breath. “You are not allowed to speak to me that way.”

      “You’re right. Sorry. I meant, screw you, Dr. Fitzpervert.” Unarmed did not mean helpless, she told herself, and neither did bound; today, she would prove it to the creatures and Fitzpervert.

      “Feisty,” Horsey said with a gleeful nod.

      “So amusing to break,” Horns cackled.

      “As long as I’m the one to break her!”

      And so began another round of arguing.

      From the corner of her eye, she saw the good doctor motion one of the guards forward, and she knew the guy would take her jaw in an inexorable grip and shove her cheek against his stomach to hold her in place. A degrading and suggestive position that humiliated even as it cowed, preventing her from biting so that Fitzherbert could inject her with another sedative.

      Have to act now. Can’t wait. Not allowing herself to stop and think, she jumped up, pulling her knees to her chest, sliding her bound arms underneath her butt and over her feet. Gymnastics classes hadn’t failed her. Hands now in front of her, she twisted, grabbed and folded the chair, and positioned the metal like a shield.

      Perfect timing. The guard reached her.

      She swung to the left, slamming her shield into his stomach. Air gushed from his mouth as he hunched over. Another swing and she nailed the side of his head, sending him to the floor in an unconscious heap.

      A few patients shouted with distress, and a few others cheered her on. The droolers continued leaking. Fitzpervert rushed to the door to force the remaining guard to act as his buffer, as well as summon more guards with the single press of a button. An alarm screeched to life, tossing the already disconcerted patients into more of a frenzy.

      No longer content to bicker on the sidelines, the creatures stalked toward her, slow and steady, taunting her.

      “Oh, the things I’ll do to you, little girl.”

      “Oh, how you’ll СКАЧАТЬ