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

slow me down.
    I must have come out of the woods at a very different spot than I left it, because my car was nowhere to be seen.
    Sighing, I brushed the hair out of my eyes and started the long trek back to New Haven.
    I had been gone all night, and I didn’t even have any furniture to show for it. How would I explain all this? Something told me the truth wouldn’t go over so well.
    So, a monster chased me into a weird house where another monster attacked it. I hit my head, and then I woke up with turn-down service.
    Yeah, not so much.
    A mile of hot asphalt later, I had my heels in my hands and two throbbing, bloody feet. But nothing was worse than the head full of questions I would never get the answers to.
    New Haven appeared before me, as quaint as ever. Still, even a hick town like that was a beautiful sight for eyes that had witnessed what mine just had.
    I looked down, instinctively primping myself. Just because I had been through hell didn’t mean I had to look like it. But there was no way I was putting those heels back on.
    “Hey!” a voice called out from behind me.
    I jerked, my entire body trembling. The whole experience must have shaken me up worse than I thought.
    “Hey, you!” A kid, maybe seventeen years old, came darting out of the woods toward me. “Get over here!”
    Panicking, I flung my shoe at him. My Gucci knocked him in head.
    “Goddamn it!” he shrieked, grabbing his skull. “What’s your problem, lady? I’m trying to help you.”
    “W-what?” I asked, suddenly feeling pretty ridiculous. “What the hell are you talking about?”
    “You’re the model, right?” He looked me up and down. “Dude! The whole town’s looking for you!”
    “Did you just call me dude?” I asked before registering the rest of what he had said.
    “Are you hurt or something?” he asked, scratching his head. “I mean, you don’t really look hurt …” he started, but then his gaze continued down to my feet. “Shit, do I need to call an ambulance?”
    I wasn’t sure how to answer his question. I
had
been through a traumatic experience, sure, and maybe I was in shock … but I doubted there was much a hospital could do for cut up feet. And I certainly didn’t feel like having some doctor poke and prod at me all day. I just needed some Advil, a lot of bandages, a warm bath, and my own bed to crawl so I could try to forget everything.
    Of course, if the entire town was looking for me, then it definitely wouldn’t be that easy.
    The boy waved his hand in front of my face then grabbed his phone. “I’m calling somebody to help you, ‘kay?”
    “No,” I said, shaking my head.
    But it was too late. The kid already had emergency services on the phone, and within ninety seconds, the sirens blared toward us.
    I wasn’t surprised to see a patrol car cresting the hill, blinking lights shining from the cab. And, when it screeched to a stop in front of me, leaving skid marks on the pavement, I wasn’t surprised to see Dalton jump out of it, either.
    But the look on his face—the pain mixed with unimaginable relief and hesitant hopefulness—pinged at me. It was the sort of look you only get when someone you
really
cared about was in trouble.
    “It’s her,” he said, slamming the door shut and sprinting toward me.
    He scooped me up into his arms and squeezed me just enough to let me know I was really here … really alive. And, for whatever reason, I instantly hoped he would never let me go. That he would tuck me away somewhere safe, where it would just be him and me.
    The way it should have been last night, if only I had done what I told him I was going to do.
    “Thank God,” he muttered, his face pressed against the crook of my neck. “We thought you were …”
    “I’m okay.” I breathed against his chest, nearly crumbling in into his embrace. “Just a little shaken up. And tired. But I’m definitely not … well, you know.”
    He set me down and started to turn away, but not before