Free Taken by the Beast (The Conduit Series Book 1) by Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley Page A

my phone, fumbling for my flashlight app and squinting as its thin white light forced a narrow cone into the darkness.
    I spun slowly, looking around for the source of that howl and hoping to God I didn’t find it.
    The woods were even closer than I thought, almost swallowing up the road on either side. Had they grown in the ten years since I had been gone? I didn’t remember them being so … encroaching.
    I shone my light back toward town. Maybe if I waited here, locking myself in the car, someone would come by.
    I inched backward, grasping for the door handle while scanning the area with my light.
    Then I heard it—low, even breathes accompanied with a simmering growl. It was worse than the howl, mostly because of how close it was. I couldn’t dismiss it this time. It rumbled so near that every hair on my arms and neck prickled.
    A whoosh of something darted in front of me, knocking into my hand. My phone flew from my gasp and landed screen first onto the road, the light shooting straight up into the air.
    I jerked back as I saw what it now illuminated. A thing—some sort of animal—reared in front of me, huffing wildly.
    Dark auburn fur covered its body. Its head stretched into a long snout, and fang-like teeth jutted from its open mouth. It had all the characteristics of a wolf—a massive torso, pointed ears, and powerful hind legs.
    Except it wasn’t a wolf. Wolves weren’t this big.
    It threw its head up and howled again, loudly into the moonlight. Never one to run toward a fight, I spun away and took off, my bare feet smacking the pavement, but I knew it was no use. This open road would make it a foot race, and an animal that size would have a gait I couldn’t outrun. My only chance, if I had any at all, would be to somehow lose this beast inside the woods.
    The animal took off behind me, first two feet, and then four, clapping against the pavement.
    I darted into the woods, stumbling as the ground shot up a little at the tree line. My heart raced ten times faster than normal while fear sent beads sweat crawling down my spine.
    My eyes adjusted to the near absolute darkness just in time to alert me I was about to crash headfirst into a tree. I stopped, bracing myself against the bark. I dodged out of the way,but the animal chasing me wasn’t so lucky. It slammed into the tree trunk and let out a surprisingly human-sounding yelp.
    I zigged to my left then zagged to my right, remembering something from a television special about some kind of animal that couldn’t keep up with that sort of thing.
    No such luck, though. The beast gained ground on me.
    Oh that’s right. It was an alligator.
    The beast’s breath, hot and terrifying, brushed against the back of my neck. I was even hotter now, pouring sweat as I spun around a nearby tree, changing directions.
    I had no idea where I was headed or even what direction I was going in. But the quick thinking earned me a much needed split second. Using it, I slid to the ground, wincing and throwing my hands in front of me as the beast jumped over me. It skidded to a stop and turned.
    Getting back on its hind legs, it paused with bright yellow eyes trailing down my body before baring its teeth again. Then, slowly, it started toward me again.
    My eyes stayed locked on it, but my hand went for my bag. Back in New York, I kept mace in my purse. You know, because of the crazies. Maybe, if I was really lucky, I would have some left.
    My fingers fumbled for the small rounded bottle as the monster neared me. When it growled again, I sensed a bit of hunger, but then, I suppose it wasn’t chasing me down just to say hello.
    Grabbing the bottle, I cursed my luck.
Empty
. But there was something beside it—something small, hard, and bumpy.
    That’s right. A stupid exfoliating soap my agent used to make me use—the one Mom said could take paint off the walls.
    I wrapped my fingers around it, unsure I was going to do. It was a rock, at best. And what good could a rock do