Read Online Witch Hunt, A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy (The Maurin Kincaide Series) by Rachel Rawlings - Free Book Online
Authors: Rachel Rawlings
Ads: Link
out a way to do it soon, too.
Right next to me, someone was going to work on Matthison already. Minutes ticked by until the sounds of fists pounding on flesh turned to the sharpening of a knife on a stone. Beating Matthison hadn’t worked; he hadn’t given them anything, not even so much as a groan. To up the ante, they were preparing to slice him up. ‘Please let him be unconscious,’ I said to myself. They had pretty much ignored me while they’d worked on Matthison, giving me some more time to free myself. I think they were betting that he would be the thing that broke me. They were wrong. If Matthison could hold out, then so could I.
Matthison bumped into me as he slumped to the floor now that no one was holding him up. So the blade was for me then. I could feel the butcher’s gaze as all of his attention was focused on me. He grabbed my throat and pulled me to my feet. The brand on my neck felt like it was on fire again as he ground the sweat and dirt on his hand into the burnt flesh. I almost had one hand free as sharpened steel cut through my hoodie and then my T-shirt. My muscles clenched as I wondered what message would be carved in my stomach for the coven to find. The tip of the cold blade began to press into my stomach. I leaned back, creating just enough slack in the ties to finally slip a hand out. I swung wild, still unable to see anyone or anything.
“You underestimated her strength!” A new, nervous voice cried out.
“I have underestimated nothing!” A gra velly voice ground out in reply.
Despite my lack of sight, I was putting things together. Gravelly voice, or Butcher, as I liked to call him, was the muscle and a sadist. The Ringleader didn’t like getting his hands dirty and was quite content to stand on the opposite side of the small room. It was probably to keep from getting blood on his sensible shoes and to keep the nervous Nancy next to him from changing his mind.
A boot connected with my ribs as I swung wide again. That really hurt; I despised those damned steel toes. His foot smashed into my cheek, tearing the stitches from my right eyelids. Little drops of blood ran together, pooling up in my eye. Finally having it open wasn’t going to make much difference now. Between the swelling, blood, and light sensitivity, all I could identify were vague shapes at this point.
“This could all end, Maurin. We’re here for the coven. No one else has to get hurt,” Ringleader said to my back.
I wasn’t taking my eyes off of the ma ssive shadowy shape looming in front of me to tell the Ringleader that I thought he was full of it.
“That’s like textbook bad guy speech. Next you’ll tell me that you’ll call off the Butcher over here if I tell you what you want to know. He’ll stop hurting me and you’ll let me go if I just tell you everything,” I said.
“Well, something like that,” he replied. He laughed with that same annoying cock iness.
“Go to hell, I’m not telling you shit.” The last bit came out in a rush with the wind that had been knocked out of me by the Butcher’s blocky hand to my stomach.
He was still close enough to get a shot in. As the Butcher pulled back, I let loose a haymaker, connecting with the side of his head. I wiped the blood from my eye in time to see him stumble backwards a little bit.
I was only able to heal myself enough at this point to remain standing. I was too exhausted to do much else. My face was swollen and bleeding. The left side of my face hadn’t taken as much damage as my right. Only a few of the stitches had come lose in the left eye. I needed both eyes. I took a breath and pulled down on my left lower eye lid until I felt the rest of the stitching give. The Butcher came back and finished the job with a stiff jab to my left eye.
“Thanks,” I growled, as I pawed at my eye.
He was shuffling back and forth on his feet, ready for another round. I was ready to get the hell out of here.
“Come on, Maurin, let’s stop all of
Right next to me, someone was going to work on Matthison already. Minutes ticked by until the sounds of fists pounding on flesh turned to the sharpening of a knife on a stone. Beating Matthison hadn’t worked; he hadn’t given them anything, not even so much as a groan. To up the ante, they were preparing to slice him up. ‘Please let him be unconscious,’ I said to myself. They had pretty much ignored me while they’d worked on Matthison, giving me some more time to free myself. I think they were betting that he would be the thing that broke me. They were wrong. If Matthison could hold out, then so could I.
Matthison bumped into me as he slumped to the floor now that no one was holding him up. So the blade was for me then. I could feel the butcher’s gaze as all of his attention was focused on me. He grabbed my throat and pulled me to my feet. The brand on my neck felt like it was on fire again as he ground the sweat and dirt on his hand into the burnt flesh. I almost had one hand free as sharpened steel cut through my hoodie and then my T-shirt. My muscles clenched as I wondered what message would be carved in my stomach for the coven to find. The tip of the cold blade began to press into my stomach. I leaned back, creating just enough slack in the ties to finally slip a hand out. I swung wild, still unable to see anyone or anything.
“You underestimated her strength!” A new, nervous voice cried out.
“I have underestimated nothing!” A gra velly voice ground out in reply.
Despite my lack of sight, I was putting things together. Gravelly voice, or Butcher, as I liked to call him, was the muscle and a sadist. The Ringleader didn’t like getting his hands dirty and was quite content to stand on the opposite side of the small room. It was probably to keep from getting blood on his sensible shoes and to keep the nervous Nancy next to him from changing his mind.
A boot connected with my ribs as I swung wide again. That really hurt; I despised those damned steel toes. His foot smashed into my cheek, tearing the stitches from my right eyelids. Little drops of blood ran together, pooling up in my eye. Finally having it open wasn’t going to make much difference now. Between the swelling, blood, and light sensitivity, all I could identify were vague shapes at this point.
“This could all end, Maurin. We’re here for the coven. No one else has to get hurt,” Ringleader said to my back.
I wasn’t taking my eyes off of the ma ssive shadowy shape looming in front of me to tell the Ringleader that I thought he was full of it.
“That’s like textbook bad guy speech. Next you’ll tell me that you’ll call off the Butcher over here if I tell you what you want to know. He’ll stop hurting me and you’ll let me go if I just tell you everything,” I said.
“Well, something like that,” he replied. He laughed with that same annoying cock iness.
“Go to hell, I’m not telling you shit.” The last bit came out in a rush with the wind that had been knocked out of me by the Butcher’s blocky hand to my stomach.
He was still close enough to get a shot in. As the Butcher pulled back, I let loose a haymaker, connecting with the side of his head. I wiped the blood from my eye in time to see him stumble backwards a little bit.
I was only able to heal myself enough at this point to remain standing. I was too exhausted to do much else. My face was swollen and bleeding. The left side of my face hadn’t taken as much damage as my right. Only a few of the stitches had come lose in the left eye. I needed both eyes. I took a breath and pulled down on my left lower eye lid until I felt the rest of the stitching give. The Butcher came back and finished the job with a stiff jab to my left eye.
“Thanks,” I growled, as I pawed at my eye.
He was shuffling back and forth on his feet, ready for another round. I was ready to get the hell out of here.
“Come on, Maurin, let’s stop all of
Similar Books
