Jaren lying around.
Kaitlynn and David had been gone for a couple of hours when I began to make dinner. Jaren put on one of the Fast and Furious movies to watch while we ate. I was glad he was finally settling in.
The doorbell rang, and I jumped, spaghetti sauce splashing over the sides of the pot. Kaitlynn and David had already become accustomed to walking in, and neither Jaren nor I expected anybody else.
“Can I help you?” Jaren asked the person at the door.
I came around the kitchen wall to see who Jaren spoke to.
It was him. The man who had been following me. My heart raced at seeing the same trench coat, and the same sharp features that were now casting shadows in Jaren’s porch light. I dropped the glass I’d been holding. It shattered on the tile. Fear punched me in the gut.
“Brooke,” said the man. “My Lady requires that you come with me.” He swept his arm to the side and out toward the walk as if it was already decided I was going with him.
He stood under the porch stoop, looking as menacing as I remembered. I shook my head, which was the only course of action I could take in my terrified state to nullify going with him. A tickle crawled along my scalp, and my mind took on a weightless, floating sensation. My body urged me to go with this man.
“No.” My mouth was dry, so it came out as a rasp. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog and strange urge. When it was clear I wasn’t leaving, the man pushed Jaren aside, marching in after me.
“Hey!” Jaren demanded, grabbing the man by his arm.
The man turned back at Jaren, hissing at him, like a cat but more threatening. Jaren’s eyes widened with fear.
“What the…?” Jaren breathed.
The man grabbed Jaren with one arm and launched him, as if Jaren were a small dog. Jaren landed hard on the end table, smashing it to pieces.
“Uggghh,” Jaren whimpered.
I ran across the room to get to Jaren, but the man stepped in front of me. Face to face, I saw his fangs.
“Whoa!” I froze. I wanted to believe he was some psycho who thought it cool to brandish fake fangs, but he wore them with a confidence a creature could only get from knowing how to use the real ones.
Jaren crept up behind the man, with his pocket knife out. “You need to leave now, or this isn’t going to turn out well for any of us.”
The man turned back at Jaren and cackled at him. “You trying to get yourself killed, boy? I am leaving here with the catalyst,” the man said, pointing at me. “I’m sick of trying to procure her without any casualties. You can either survive it or not. I don’t care anymore.” He spoke with a thick accent that sounded European.
Jaren lunged at him in warning, but the man was fast. He snatched the knife out of Jaren’s hand and threw it, stabbing the wall behind me. My heart pounded in my ears.
Who was this guy?
The man attacked Jaren, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing. With one arm, he lifted Jaren clear from the floor.
A squeak leaked out between Jaren’s lips with what I feared might be his last exhale. Heat scorched my veins.
I grabbed a hold of the knife stuck in the wall and struggled to yank it out. I leaped at the man, swinging the knife in as large of an arc as I could to gain momentum, and sliced it into the side of his throat.
I expected him to release Jaren, drop to his knees, and gurgle to his death.
He dropped Jaren, but instead of falling to his knees, the man turned to me with malice on his face. His intentions for me now were much worse than taking me to his Lady .
He sprung at me with incredible speed.
I followed his movements and dodged him.
He turned around, fangs glinting in the overhead light, and his hands came up with his fingers curling into the likeness of claws. He lunged at me again, catching me on my shoulder with one of his sharp, clawed fingers. Pain burned down the back of my shoulder where the flesh tore.
Adrenaline spiked through me, intensifying the heat and heightening all of my
Kaitlynn and David had been gone for a couple of hours when I began to make dinner. Jaren put on one of the Fast and Furious movies to watch while we ate. I was glad he was finally settling in.
The doorbell rang, and I jumped, spaghetti sauce splashing over the sides of the pot. Kaitlynn and David had already become accustomed to walking in, and neither Jaren nor I expected anybody else.
“Can I help you?” Jaren asked the person at the door.
I came around the kitchen wall to see who Jaren spoke to.
It was him. The man who had been following me. My heart raced at seeing the same trench coat, and the same sharp features that were now casting shadows in Jaren’s porch light. I dropped the glass I’d been holding. It shattered on the tile. Fear punched me in the gut.
“Brooke,” said the man. “My Lady requires that you come with me.” He swept his arm to the side and out toward the walk as if it was already decided I was going with him.
He stood under the porch stoop, looking as menacing as I remembered. I shook my head, which was the only course of action I could take in my terrified state to nullify going with him. A tickle crawled along my scalp, and my mind took on a weightless, floating sensation. My body urged me to go with this man.
“No.” My mouth was dry, so it came out as a rasp. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog and strange urge. When it was clear I wasn’t leaving, the man pushed Jaren aside, marching in after me.
“Hey!” Jaren demanded, grabbing the man by his arm.
The man turned back at Jaren, hissing at him, like a cat but more threatening. Jaren’s eyes widened with fear.
“What the…?” Jaren breathed.
The man grabbed Jaren with one arm and launched him, as if Jaren were a small dog. Jaren landed hard on the end table, smashing it to pieces.
“Uggghh,” Jaren whimpered.
I ran across the room to get to Jaren, but the man stepped in front of me. Face to face, I saw his fangs.
“Whoa!” I froze. I wanted to believe he was some psycho who thought it cool to brandish fake fangs, but he wore them with a confidence a creature could only get from knowing how to use the real ones.
Jaren crept up behind the man, with his pocket knife out. “You need to leave now, or this isn’t going to turn out well for any of us.”
The man turned back at Jaren and cackled at him. “You trying to get yourself killed, boy? I am leaving here with the catalyst,” the man said, pointing at me. “I’m sick of trying to procure her without any casualties. You can either survive it or not. I don’t care anymore.” He spoke with a thick accent that sounded European.
Jaren lunged at him in warning, but the man was fast. He snatched the knife out of Jaren’s hand and threw it, stabbing the wall behind me. My heart pounded in my ears.
Who was this guy?
The man attacked Jaren, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing. With one arm, he lifted Jaren clear from the floor.
A squeak leaked out between Jaren’s lips with what I feared might be his last exhale. Heat scorched my veins.
I grabbed a hold of the knife stuck in the wall and struggled to yank it out. I leaped at the man, swinging the knife in as large of an arc as I could to gain momentum, and sliced it into the side of his throat.
I expected him to release Jaren, drop to his knees, and gurgle to his death.
He dropped Jaren, but instead of falling to his knees, the man turned to me with malice on his face. His intentions for me now were much worse than taking me to his Lady .
He sprung at me with incredible speed.
I followed his movements and dodged him.
He turned around, fangs glinting in the overhead light, and his hands came up with his fingers curling into the likeness of claws. He lunged at me again, catching me on my shoulder with one of his sharp, clawed fingers. Pain burned down the back of my shoulder where the flesh tore.
Adrenaline spiked through me, intensifying the heat and heightening all of my
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