Lupo

Chapter Twenty (Part 2): Solus

"They'll look after you, don't worry!" she sneered, the little blisters at the corners of her mouth stretching horribly as she grinned. "You're an asset. They'll want to keep you healthy...until there's no longer a reason to..."

It happened so fast, that Darcie almost missed it. Bloody hands appeared out of nowhere - seemingly disembodied and ghostly in the dark - and fixed themselves on either side of the woman's head. One second, she was talking down to Darcie, and the next - the hands had materialised, grasped her face, and jerked it violently to one side. There was a low, unmistakable crunch as her neck snapped. 

Paralysed with shock, Darcie's lips parted in a silent scream as she watched the woman crumple sideways over the low garden wall, her head hitting a decorative flower pot in next door's garden with a nasty crack. The sound was very slightly echoed around the otherwise silent street before it faded into dreadful silence, wherein Darcie couldn't help but stare, horrified, at the eerily limp, impossibly still body. Dead.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Face grim and eyes glowing violet, Tito stepped forwards out of the dark.

"You killed her!" Darcie gasped, cold with shock, her chest constricting with panic and blocking her airflow. "Did you kill her?! Oh my god..!"

Tito's hands shone with blood in the light from the hallway as he bent down to snatch up his push-button phone. "Call Leala." he panted, his voice sounding a little strained as he tossed the phone into Darcie's lap. "Get upstairs. Now!"

Darcie jumped as the phone hit her stomach and - her brain too numb for action- was only able to peer dumbly up into Tito's furious face, tears frozen in tracks on her cheeks. His brow was freckled with a spray of red: blood, and she blanched. 

Somewhere at the back of her mind a faint voice - as if calling from a great distance, was willing her to fight through the stupor enveloping her. With a great effort, and with her stomach roiling with nausea, she seized the phone and her bag and scrambled to her feet. As she turned to stumble through the door again, she caught sight of three figures emerging from the darkness of the alleyway over Tito's shoulder.

This sight was enough to kick her into flight mode again, and her stomach gave a nasty lurch of terror. "Hurry!" she panted in a high, trembling voice, whirling fully and launching herself into the house and towards the stairs. "Behind you!"

But she needn't have warned him; Tito was right on her heels. He slammed the door behind them and followed her up the stairs, taking them two at a time. They were almost at the top when there came a great bang and a crunch from behind them, and they both turned instinctively to find the front door hanging off its hinges. Three more of the Lycan crowded into the hall : the tiny woman, her tattooed companion, and their dumpy leader with the greasy hair. 

Darcie gasped, but Tito didn't look at all surprised that they'd made such quick work of the door. Jaw set, he turned back to Darcie and grasped the front of her cheap, imitation leather jacket with one hand. "Leala!" was all he said again, before - without warning- he half threw her backwards onto the landing. 

There was no time to nurse her surprise. She landed hard on her hip again and she winced, her hands stinging as the grazed palms scraped the carpet. Scrambling at once to her feet, she watched - breathless- as Tito turned away to assume a defensive crouch from his position on the stairs. 

 The three Lycan took the stairs without ceremony, led by the beefy man with the stragly hair. The knife - now shining with fresh blood- was once again clutched tightly in his fist, and his face was now devoid of any amusement or humour. The heavily tattoed man and his companion kept close behind, their black eyes glinting maliciously in the hallway light. As the three closed in on Tito, Darcie met the gaze of the woman, who beared her needle-like fangs at her in a greedy, demented little half smile.