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MillionNovel > Mostly Dead [A Paranormal Urban Fantasy] > 28. A Polite Exit ?

28. A Polite Exit ?

    I looked around and saw the other faces, the women, now feral. Their Hexborn features became more pronounced, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light as they edged closer.


    I think I know what the key opens. Jack, we need to get out of here. Now!


    The air around us felt heavy. Lizzy’s head shook, long hair swaying around her worried face, a deep frown etched into her features. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, knowing this wasn’t going to end well.


    I slid the key into my jacket pocket. The atmosphere shifted as Lizzy’s goons sensed the change, their eyes locking onto me.


    “Alright, folks,” I muttered, my voice low, “time to make our grand exit.”


    The room exploded into chaos. I ducked a swing from one goon, then another, as Lizzy''s hiss of frustration cut through the din. Bottles shattered, and tables overturned as I fought my way toward the door.


    “Give it to me!” she shrieked.


    Another punch flew toward my face. I ducked and weaved, feeling the wind of the blow brush past my ear. I grabbed a bottle from the bar and smashed it over the attacker''s head. A cacophony tore through the air—splintered wood, shards of glass, and spilled liquor splaying into a chaotic tapestry across the floor.


    “You’re costing me a fortune, Jack!” she yelled.


    “Send me the bill,” I dodged another swing and sent a goon crashing into a table. The wood splintered under the impact, and the goon lay there groaning.


    I took a hit across the back of the head and spun, barely keeping my balance. As I righted myself, a woman with dark, wild hair and glowing red eyes lunged at me, her claws aimed for my throat. I dodged just in time, feeling the rush of air as her strike missed by inches. Frank, wrapped tightly around my torso, yanked me aside to avoid a second slash, his quick reflexes saving my neck yet again.


    Focus, Jack, Frank''s voice echoed in my mind.


    A figure with dark, smoky veins pulsating under her skin attacked from the side. I grabbed a chair and swung it at her, the wood splintering on impact but barely slowing her down. She snarled and leapt again, but Frank pulled me back, making me stumble out of the way. I retaliated with a swift kick to her midsection, sending her sprawling across the floor.


    Another woman dove from above, fae wings spreading wide. I rolled to the side, her claws raking the floor where I was a moment ago. Frank yanked me up with a sharp pull, and I used the momentum to drive my elbow into her back, knocking her off balance.


    Maybe try not to get us killed, Frank said.


    The dark-haired woman was on me again, her strength fueled by the cursed blood running through her veins. I grabbed a broken bottle and swung it at her, the jagged glass cutting through the air. She dodged, but Frank’s timely tug allowed me to pivot and strike her across the face. She howled in pain, clutching her wound.


    The fae Hexborn recovered and charged, but I was ready. Frank tugged me forward, and I used the momentum to slam her into a wall. She slumped down, dazed. The redhead tried to take advantage of the distraction, but Frank jerked me to the side just as her claws swiped past my face. I grabbed a nearby lamp and swung it hard, the base connecting with her head and sending her crashing to the floor.


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    "Frank, a little help here?" I called, feeling the hunger gnawing at my insides, the pain and exertion bringing it closer and closer to the surface.


    What do you think I’m doing? Frank wrapped around the blonde''s head and pulled down fast, slamming her into a table. She went down hard, the table splintering under the impact.


    You know, Jack, Frank said, for a dead guy, you sure do attract a lot of unwanted attention.


    The exertion was taking its toll. Two goons were back on their feet and heading my way. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and a gnawing hunger clawed at my insides.


    Lizzy’s eyes narrowed as she noticed something was wrong. “You’re looking a bit worse for wear,” she said, shaking her head as if trying to clear away a lingering fog.


    My movements were getting slower, the hunger gnawing at my control.


    A particularly large goon grabbed a bottle and swung it at my head. I ducked, but the bottle shattered against my shoulder, sending shards of glass into my skin. Pain flared, and I staggered, trying to regain my footing. Blood seeped through my jacket, mixing with sweat. I took the broken bottle in his hand and rammed it into his neck with a deep growl.


    The rage inside me roared, threatening to overwhelm my senses. My vision blurred for a moment, and I nearly lost my grip on reality.


    I needed my drink. Why did I leave it in the car?


    Keep it together, Frank’s voice echoed in my mind, a steadying presence amidst the chaos.


    I made it to the door, but two more goons blocked my escape. My eyes were filled with malicious glee. I felt myself losing it, teetering on the edge of control. Just as I was about to let go, I heard her voice cut through the din.


    “Stop!” Lizzy, having regained some composure, locked eyes with me. She saw the pleading hunger rising in me.


    “Let him go.” She raised a hand, calling them off.


    They hesitated, but eventually stepped aside. With great difficulty, I forced myself to calm down, my breaths ragged and shallow.


    “You’re still as stubborn as ever,” she said, forcing a half-hearted smile.


    “Goodbye, Lizzy,” I said, my voice as steady as I could manage.


    “Goodbye, Jack. I hope you know what you’re doing.”


    The door burst open, and we were hit by the pounding bass and shrill noise of the club. We pushed our way through the crowd, the smell of alcohol and blood clinging to me. Finally, we stumbled into the cool night air, the chill biting against my sweat-soaked skin.


    I grabbed my weapons and half-ran, half-stumbled to the car. My limbs felt heavy, every movement a struggle. I didn’t look back.


    I snatched a bottle of sanity juice from the passenger floor and started chugging. The liquid burned like hellfire as it went down, but slowly, the feeling subsided into a bearable ache. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I fumbled with the keys before the engine roared to life. I peeled out of the parking lot, leaving the neon lights of Lux to fade into the distance. The weight of the key in my pocket felt like a lead brick.


    There was a long pause before Frank said anything.


    You okay, Jack?


    "Peachy," I said, taking a deep breath. "Just another night in paradise."


    The night hung over me like a bad hangover. The road stretched out before me, dark and uncertain, but one thing was for sure: I wasn’t done. Not yet. The engine''s rumble was a steady reminder that I was still sort of alive, and as long as I was, there was hope.


    The hunger gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, a beast waiting to pounce, but I pushed it back, focusing on the task ahead. I downed my last bottle of Think Clearly. It barely moved the needle. The city lights blurred into a haze as I drove, the key in my pocket pulsing like a heartbeat.


    "What the hell happened in there?" I asked. My grip tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles bleaching under the strain.


    I was wrong, Jack. It’s far worse than I thought. We have to find a rift, and fast.
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