Here's a Little Taste of Hybrid...
Maeve wigged out again, yanking the bedside table drawer open and flinging the contents at the trio of men in the doorway. Much to her consternation, a series of foil packets fluttered harmlessly to the floor between them, their shiny packaging catching the early-morning light. In her near state of hysteria, the foil butterflies were simply further proof of some kind of interspecies-gangbang-plot.
“I will not go quietly into the night!” she screeched. “I will not let you use me for your – no doubt pleasurable – yet sick united nations, orgy-gangbang!”
The dark-skinned human looked first to the vampire, who looked inordinately amused, and then to the werewolf, who merely shrugged beefy shoulders. “Do you think the attack broke her brain somehow?” the human asked.
Attack? Maeve thought, wondering at the audacity of the men to not even try to deny they had abducted her. “So you admit it? You did bite me!” She glared at the vampire, hands going to her hips in a classic gesture of anger and frustration. Unfortunately, the movement reminded her that she also had a sore hip, and she risked a quick look down.
Gasping, she noticed for the first time that she was wearing nothing but a ratty t-shirt, her short legs bare and on display. She grudgingly admitted that the shirt was super soft and comfy and angled her head, allowing a small smile to escape when she saw the image printed on the front. It was a stargate. Her kidnappers had good taste, at least. Reaching down, she was relieved to discover she still had her underwear on. Giving the silent trio a stern look, she half-turned and lifted the edge of the shirt so she could see hip. Maeve felt herself list to the side when she saw the angry-looking claw marks scratched into her skin. They were raw and red but no longer bleeding, and although they seemed to be healing, they still looked deep.
“What have you done to me?” she whispered, voice pathetically soft and filled with fear. Maeve felt her bravado leaving her as her legs started to shake.
Bitten and scratched … not possible, she told herself. If she were bitten and scratched, she would be dead. Even her vaccinations wouldn’t have been enough to save her.