Thirty-Two
Thirty-Two
HIM
As I reach the drive, I catch the hum of an engine. I turn my head to see Maddox coming up behind me. He parks by the house and steps out as I wait for him.
“You look like shit,” he says with a grin. “I take it Micha didn’t just accept you back like a good little breedmare?”
I take a step towards him, my eyes narrowing, and he backpedals around to the trunk of the car, still grinning like a fool. Grabbing the latch, he says, “Maybe this will cheer you up,” then pops it open before I can get to him.
I stop at the smell of a werewolf.
My eyes drop to see Zita hogtied in the trunk of the car. Her violet eyes are full of pain, the silver chains around her seeping poison into her veins. They’re not made out of the silver from Earth – a soft material that does nothing. The chain, just like my silver knives, is from Blo?dyrio?, the world werewolves and vampires originally come from – used to bind wolves on the night of the full moon and the nights on