We hit the ground with a lurch, and to my utter surprise it wasn’t a splat. I was certain that we would die, or be so injured we wouldn’t be able to move and flee from Henry.
Before I could turn to Michael and ask what the hell was going on, he picked me up and ran headlong for the alleyways between Paris’s buildings.
After about thirty seconds of regaining my bearings, I shot a string of questions at him without giving him time to respond.
When he stayed silent, I sagged against him in frustration before more words rushed out of me. “Fine, don’t tell me anything. But if I so much as think you’re going to try to kill me, I’ll scream until your head explodes. I might not know much about vampires, but I know not many creatures can survive without their head.”
“And what do you know about vampires, Tessa? What was it that convinced you I am one of them?”
He was speaking with ease, as if we were still making small talk in the café where we met not long before and not running so fast it was making me nauseous.
The bastard wasn’t even winded.
Before I realized what was going on, I snorted and tried to stop myself from laughing, but failed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michael smile. Even with all the chaos, dangers, and the questions, I couldn’t help but stop and appreciate his beauty.
That was when I knew I was doomed.
© Sarah Doughty
This is part 12 of Him. Read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, and part 11.
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This was also published at UInk.ca.