Salvation's Kiss (Tales Of Mython Book 1) by Kathryn Jayne (old books to read .TXT) 📗

movement. Instinctively, she glanced over her shoulder and yelped to see a figure barely a breath away from her. Staggering forward, her mouth opened to scream but, before the sound could pierce the air, a calloused hand clasped around her mouth, dragging her back as his other arm snaked around her torso. Sinking her teeth deep into his hand, she pierced his flesh, drawing blood. She prepared to run, but instead of loosening his grip he held her tighter, a low chuckle growling within his throat as he seemed to press his bleeding hand harder into her mouth, causing her to choke and retch as the salty, bitter fluid slid down her throat.

A shrill whistle pieced the air as she kicked out, thrashing backwards and forwards, hoping to connect a blow, hoping to free herself from his crushing grasp. The gravel underfoot slid as she thrust her weight one way and another until a second figure appeared as silently as the first, grasping her. Bucking, she used all her strength, managing to free one of her legs. The sound of tearing fabric echoed almost as loud as her muffled screams, as the attacker at her legs sunk their teeth into her exposed calf with more aggression than was needed. Her flailing momentum tore his exposed teeth through her flesh, splitting her skin like a hot knife through butter.

The warmth of rapidly flowing blood was only felt for a moment before the limb became numb. Sickness rose within her as she heard the hungry slurping sounds of the creature feasting upon her, draining her life one overflowing mouthful at a time. Her head began to swim as a deep, burning sensation from her core began to engulf her. She heard a scream, one she believed to be her own, escaping from the firm, silencing grasp as her vision became overpowered with darkness. As if fearful of this sound, she felt her attackers’ grip release. She landed heavily, her forehead striking the stone steps of the bandstand where they had been attempting to drag her. Small fragments of light filtered through the consuming darkness that swam across her vision. Her trembling arm rose to clamp her hand around the enormous slice down her leg. She knew that if she couldn’t staunch the bleeding, she would lose consciousness and her chances of being discovered alive would be slim.

Tugging her coat free with her teeth, she attempted to wrap it around her leg, to fashion a tourniquet. But her strength was failing. She lay back, panting, her mind screaming at her to move, lift her arm and tie the knot, and yet she found she no longer possessed the strength to control her heavy limbs. Her fading attention shifted towards listening for her attackers’ return. They had to know she was no longer strong enough to fend them off, and when they realised this, they would no doubt return to finish what they started.

The sound of hurried footsteps upon the gravel turned her mouth dry as her mind swarmed with all the things she had left unsaid, and thoughts of the one kiss she wanted more than anything to have. Conrad’s image filled her mind, teasing a weak smile from her lips. As her body began to cool, she imagined herself in the warmth of his embrace, melting into her first real kiss, a kiss with no hidden agenda or any necessity other than answering her own longing.

“Relax,” whispered a suggestive voice as the sound of footsteps stilled. She flinched as she felt warm hands upon her exposed flesh. “If I don’t help you, you’ll bleed out. Rest.” His voice echoed around her mind as the darkness claimed her before her vision could clear enough to see his face.

Tess transferred the lesson plan from her home network to her device, ready for tomorrow. It had been a long day. Then again, lately they all had been. Part of her was tempted to drop one of her lectures to give her more time. She had thought she could do it all, attend lectures, refresh basics, plan lessons, teach, and study, but it was becoming more taxing as the year progressed and her class required more of her support.

The creaking leather of her chair protested against the sudden movement after hours of being still as she slumped backward, relishing the relief as its thick padding supported her aching muscles. Casting her eyes to the carefully moderated lighting, a tired smile played on her lips as she thought back to how she and her father had worked on perfecting the exact frequency that was conducive to study, without being so intense it strained the eyes. She felt terrible that she hadn’t found the opportunity to tell her friends her news, and it was killing her to keep something so enormous from them. Things had been too busy lately, and every time an opportunity had presented itself, something else had interfered.

“Hey, kiddo.” Her father knocked on the door, poking his head through cautiously, ready to duck back at a moment’s notice if he had disturbed something important. “Thought you could use a drink.” He stepped inside, placing the mug on the side, earning a smile. Although it wasn’t the thoughtful gesture and reversal of roles that made her smile, it was the extreme angles in which his hair splayed out. If mad scientists were to elect a visual figurehead, they would use her father’s image after a night of work. His black hair showed signs of his frustrated hand passing through it as he tried to solve the next problem. “How are the lectures going? Everything you wanted?”

“It’s a little strange being the same age as everyone else,” she confessed, taking a sip of the malted drink only for it to stir her hunger, causing a loud rumble in her stomach.

“That’s what you get for being a prodigy.” He grinned. “On that note, I thought your friends were going to be coming over to celebrate. I