Free Hollowed by Kelley York Page A

arms around the wolf ' s neck, wrenching him back. Algonquin goes but not without taking a mess of skin and tissue with him. Joel ' s shriek of pain rises in pitch. My stomach rolls. Algonquin squirms in the other vampire ' s grasp, teeth gnashing while Artie tries to get a better hold on him. And I know if I leave, they ' ll kill him.
    I swing my legs inside. Algonquin keeps Artie moving, standing on his hind legs, trying to shake him off. On Mom ' s desk is a solid silver letter opener and I snatch it up, jump over Joel who is down for the count, at least for a few minutes. He grabs for my legs, misses; I make it a point to slam my boot down onto his fingers.
    Algonquin whines and pants, starting to lose strength as Artie chokes the air out of him. I don ' t think about what I ' m doing. I d on ' t think as the letter opener slides into Artie ' s back halfway to the hilt, just between his shoulder blades. I swear I can feel it grazing off bone. He stiffens, howls, as I pull it out and stab him again. And again , and again. Until he has no choice but to let Algonquin go and whirl around to deal with me.
    He meets my eyes . I ' m frozen. Too scared to move. Taken back to the night by the river where these men took Sherry ' s life and tried to take mine.
    And Sherry, dying, had begged them not to hurt me .
    It ' s not as sharp as a knife, but using both hands to drive it into the base of Artie ' s throat does the trick. He swings for me. Algonquin catches Artie's arm between his teeth. I twist the letter opener and watch Artie ' s eyes widen. Algonquin and I let go and he staggers back, grasping the opener and tearing it out. His blood starts pouring out of the wound so quickly even he looks surprised.
    Algonquin circles around, shoving his head against my side and pushing me for the door. I tear my eyes away and take the hint, and we both thunder down the stairs. I barely think to grab the duffel bag I abandoned earlier before we tear out the kitchen door.
    We head across the backyard and through the gate to the empty alley behind. Running until Algonquin can ' t run anymore, and my legs are trembling from the exertion. I guess even vampires have limits. Only then do we both slump down in the shade of a gated apartment complex to catch our breaths.
    We made it. Somehow. And I ' ve proven that — vampire or no —the men who hurt me and Sherry aren ' t invincible. They ' re as much flesh and blood as me, which means they can be killed.
    And I ' m going to do it. I ' m going to show them what it felt like, being help less at the mercy of monsters. I'll s how them what Sherry felt as she died.
    Algonquin ' s warm tongue licks some of the blood from my face. He whines. I loop my arms around his neck, press my face into his fur and breathe in deep.
    " You saved me. Thank you. "
    His tail thumps tiredly against the pavement. We ' re both bloody messes. God, Mom threw a fit if we got a kool-aid stain on the floor. Wait until she sees the house.
    I think of my parents coming home to that, seeing my old room a disaster. Them trying to piece together what happened like a game of Clue: Briar Greyson, in the bedroom, with the letter opener.
    I can ' t help it. The thought makes me laugh.
     
     

 
15 . Wednesday – 3:24pm
     
     
    We clean ourselves up in a gas station restroom. Even being in the place leaves me feeling grimier than before, but it's better than walking around covered in dried blood for the rest of the day. Algonquin changes back into his familiar kitten-self. Easier to sneak him onto the bus to get back downtown. The transformation process is pretty neat to watch, like those commercials of one person ' s face morphing into another and another. So quick and subtle that if you blink, you miss it.
    Downtown inevitably means passing by the bar. Complete accident, of course. Like I would have any reason to come back here. I stop across the street, watching people coming and going , and I put serious thought into going