Thursday, May 21, 2009
She could hear him behind her, fast and sure-footed. A shot whizzed by her ear and she zigzagged hoping the next bullet wouldn’t find its mark. He made her into this monster and now he wanted to kill her because of it? Damn it, he was a werewolf, but in the recesses of her mind, she knew she shouldn’t be one. Werewolves were forbidden to turn a human into one of them. Grayson was trying to cover his ass no doubt—the bastard. The thought of facing him and ripping him to shreds crossed her mind. Then something sharp pierced her flesh. She let out a howl as her hind legs gave out. She tried to rise, but her body wouldn’t obey. Damn if she’d make this easy for him and rolled over. He’d have to look her in the eyes when he ended her life.
He approached her with caution.
That’s right, come closer, so I can rip you a part limb by limb. She waited and conserved what was left of her strength.
He leaned down on his haunches.
She lunged, snapping her jaws at him, but he didn’t flinch. His brows furrowed and his silver eyes looked pained. How thoughtful. He felt sad he had to murder her. Well, she felt betrayed and hurt that he cared so little for her.
“I’m truly sorry, Sydney,” he told her with unmistakable regret in his tone. She might have believed him if he hadn’t shot her. Again.
Everything went black.