kidnapped by Eraser

But two seconds later, a heavy clawed hand grabbed my hair, yanking me backward, right off my feet. Angel's hand was ripped out of mine, and she screamed bloody murder. You think you understand those words—bloody murder? Trust me; you don't.

The Angel Experiment Chapter 93


Without pausing, the powerful Eraser swung me up over his shoulder. Talk about being dead meat.
I smelled his harsh animal smell, saw his bloodshot eyes. He was laughing, happy to have caught me, and his long yellow fangs actually looked too big for his mouth. Angel was still screaming.
Bloody murder!
I kicked and yelled and hit and punched and scratched, but the Eraser just laughed and started tearing down the sidewalk while people stared. "Is this a movie?" I heard someone ask.
Nah—this is too original for Hollywood. They do sequels.
Lifting my head, I saw Fang, dark and determined, streaking toward us. He was keeping pace, but he wasn't catching up. If a car was waiting, I was a goner. I struggled as hard as I could, chopping at the Eraser, punching and scratching, and it was infuriating how little effect I had on the beast. Had they been bred to have no pain receptors?
"Fang!" I bellowed, seeing him even farther away than he had been. We were outpacing him. Dimly, I could still hear Angel's high-pitched shrieking. Every nasty swear word I knew came pouring out of my mouth, punctuated with punches and chops and kicks. The Eraser didn't even slow down.
The next thing I knew, we were going down, suddenly and with no warning, as if someone had cut the Eraser's legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, and I cracked my head against the sidewalk so hard I saw fireworks. My legs were pinned, and I frantically started kicking, scrambling out from under him.
He didn't move. Had he knocked himself out? How?
I scrabbled back into a trash can, snapped onto all fours, and stared at the Eraser. He was completely still, his eyes open and glassy. Blood trickled out of his mouth, which had morphed halfway to a wolf's snout. A few curious people had paused to watch us, but most kept on walking, talking into their cell phones. Life as usual in New York City.
Fang roared up and pulled me hard to my feet, starting to drag me away.
"Wait!" I said. "Fang—I think he's dead."
Fang looked from me to the Eraser, then nudged his boot against the still form. It didn't move, didn't blink. Still holding my hand, Fang knelt and put his fingers against the Eraser's wrist, wary and alert for movement.
"You're right," he said, standing. "He's dead. What'd you do to him?"
"Nothing. I was whaling on him, but it didn't do squat. Then he went down like a ton of bricks."

The Angel Experiment Chapter 94