The Beast Within (The Elite Series) - By Jonathan Yanez Page 0,39
recovered from his shock and placed himself behind Connor.
Connor could feel his cold breath on the nape of his neck. Faust’s anger was palpable. He only made it a half turn before Faust grabbed him around the throat, picked him up off the ground, and slammed him against the wall.
The impact Connor’s body made against the wall rattled his teeth and took his breath away. Even more disappointing, the sudden jolt made him drop the lamp. Now with his feet dangling a few inches from the floor, he struggled to breathe. Both his hands fought against Faust’s death hold, but to no avail. Faust was too strong. Without the element of surprise, things were looking worse every second.
“Who are you?” Faust growled.
Connor couldn’t even breathe, much less respond. His mind groped for an answer as his eyes took in his surroundings. Lu was struggling to make it to his knees. Laren had somehow managed to wrestle free from her captors but was still grappling with her two assailants.
Blond eyebrows furrowed, Faust leaned in toward his victim, his nose inhaling a huge whiff of air.
Stepping back and once again holding Connor at arm’s length, he cocked his head to the side. “What are you?”
Connor had to buy enough time for Lu to recover or for Laren to break free. His mind was fuzzy; with no oxygen to work with, his thought process slowed. He concentrated on answering Faust’s question but with no air, it came out as little more than a gasp.
Intrigued, Faust loosened his grip on Connor’s neck and lowered him to the ground.
“What was that?” he asked.
Connor could see Lu making his way from kneeling to standing.. Connor gasped for air, still holding Faust’s hand in both of his.
“I’m…” he drew in another breath of sweet air, “I’m the last thing you’re ever going to see.”
Releasing his grip on Faust’s hand, he reached toward his executioner’s face, and with every ounce of strength he could muster, jammed his thumbs into the dark orbs Faust called eyes.
A howl of pain broke free from deep within Faust’s chest. Releasing Connor’s throat, he broke the grasp Connor held on his eyes, once again throwing him against the wall.
Connor tried to regain the oxygen his lungs needed with deep breaths. Faust’s eye sockets were bloody and hollow. Blood was spattered down his suit and tie, dripping onto his expensive black shoes.
Faust was beyond any human words now; with a growl and open jaws, he disregarded his brass knuckle, letting it fall to the floor as he lunged toward Connor. Faust was so fast Connor had no time to react. He aimed his jaws at Connor’s throat, but missed, and clamping instead around his left shoulder.
With the force of a steel bear trap, Faust sunk his razor-sharp teeth deep, penetrating both skin and muscle. Connor screamed in pain. He tried beating, clawing, and scraping his attacker. The pain was worse than anything he had ever endured. He was sure Faust had bitten down to his bone and was now crushing tendons and ligaments. His shoulder felt like it was on fire.
Snapping his head, Faust threw Connor halfway across the room, sending him crashing into an old wooden crate. His vision blurred with pain, Connor tried to get up, but his left shoulder gave out beneath him. His white shirt was now drenched in blood. His left arm was numb.
Before he was able to gather himself and manage a second attempt to rise to his feet, an eyeless Faust tackled him.
More beast than human, Faust pushed him to the ground. He clawed at Connor’s chest with the ferocity of a wild animal. Connor was powerless to stop him and was within a few seconds of giving up all hope. Faust was too strong, and with a near broken shoulder, Connor was helpless.
Connor accepted his fate, his thoughts turning to Laren. His body vibrated and shook with pain, but instead of agony, all Connor felt was hope. Hope that Laren would survive the night and that he’d done enough to save her.
He closed his eyes, giving himself over to the darkness. But fate had other plans for Connor Moore. Suddenly the clawing and tearing stopped. Opening his eyes, he saw Randolph. Suit crimson with blood, his face told an entire story by itself. His lip was sliced open, with swelling already forcing his right eye closed, and his expression displayed a look of concern and fear.