The Bite (The Bite #1)

Prologue

The girl did not know it yet, but death loomed like an undertaker, hidden in the shadows. She was unaware it had been watching her every move for some time now. Biding its time. Waiting for the right moment to reach out its claws, snatch hold of her body and drag her screaming into the darkness.

When she rose that morning, as the sun slithered into the dark throat of night and showered its flaming incandescence on the earth, not once did she have the piercing thought today would be her last. The sky was not sorrowful; there was no presentiment of gloom in its steely glaze, the winds did not whisper their warnings, and the world was not drowning in grief.

The day went on as it always did, and so did she.

Oblivious that each breath she took ticked down, like the bone-fingered second hand on a grim reaper’s watch.

Tick tock.

The girl still did not believe her demise was imminent—even as the clock stopped, the breath faded from her lungs, her eyes began to curtain, and death’s hand snatched out and yanked her.