Drop Dead Gorgeous (Return to Fear Street Book 3)

I struggled and squirmed. But she sat heavily on top of me, pinning my arms down. No way I could kick her or roll out from under her.

I felt hot liquid on my throat. My blood. And I could hear a lapping sound, and sometimes what sounded like a slurp, and hungry swallowing.

I shook my head from side to side, trying to avoid the pain of her needle teeth.

“Hold still!” Morgan shouted. “I don’t want a shake—I want a smoothie.”

I felt a harsh scraping on my neck and knew it was her tongue licking up my blood. She lowered her head and drank hungrily, as if she had been starving.

The slurping sounds rang in my ears, then seemed far away . . . far away . . . like ocean waves in the distance.

I knew I was getting weak. She is draining me.

I don’t have much time left. If I don’t act now . . .

I took in a deep breath. Then I swung my body hard to the left, swung with all my remaining strength. I jerked an arm free. Her hand slid off as I pulled the arm up.

And I punched her as hard as I could in the face.

It felt like hitting solid stone.

She made a gurgling sound and toppled off me, landing on her side. It gave me just enough time to swing around, roll to my knees, lurch to my feet.

My throat ached. I could feel the warm blood trickling down my neck. My legs didn’t want to cooperate. But I forced them forward. I took a few staggering steps toward the front door.

Behind me, I glimpsed Morgan shake off the pain from my punch. She rose up with an animal growl. Dove forward, grabbing for me with both hands.

“Come back, honey. I need to finish.”

“N-no,” I stammered. Just a few feet from the front door. But I felt so weak, my legs so rubbery and heavy, as if they weighed a thousand pounds.

And she was charging after me now, growling, curling and uncurling her hands like claws as she tore across the room.

I can’t make it.

I struggled to breathe. Struggled to move.

She roared closer, running hard. I spun around in time to see her stumble over a stack of Spencer’s puzzles. The puzzles flew in all directions as she went down.

Morgan’s arms flew up as she crashed to the floor. She uttered a loud gasp as her head smacked against it. Her head hit hard once, then bounced and hit again.

Was she out? She wasn’t moving.

I grabbed the front doorknob with a trembling hand. I pulled the door open, almost hitting myself with it, and stumbled onto the front stoop.

The feel of the fresh night air was overwhelming. I suddenly felt as if my lungs would burst. I felt the stain of blood on my neck, still warm.

I turned and slammed the front door shut. My car shone under a streetlamp at the curb beyond the front yard.

Got to get away. Got to get away.

My shoes scraped and crunched down the gravel driveway. The only other sounds were the wheezing of my breath and the bass-drum pounding of my heart.

I was halfway down the driveway, but my car still seemed a mile away.

The last thing I heard was Spencer’s high voice, ringing out from the house. “Winks? Winks? Are you okay?”