Page 97 of Holy Sinner

“They aren’t moving. They aren’t even breathing.” Alana picks up her flashlight and gestures at them. “Kit, there’s no way they are alive.”

“I still have to check.” I crouch down and take a deep breath as I grab their shoulder and roll them onto their back.

Alana covers her face with her hands. “Oh god, I can’t look.”

My legs nearly give out when I see their face. I laugh and drop to my knees beside them.“It’s a fucking dummy.” Relief floods my veins and I feel loose and happy. It’s definitely me being slap happy but I welcome the delirium with open arms.

“It’s not real. It’s a mannequin,” I say again and keep laughing. “Oh fuck, it’s okay. We’re okay.”

“What?” Alana comes to her knees beside me. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks and gives the dummy a flick of her finger. The sharp sound of plastic sounds and we both go silent. Alana breaks the silence first with a giggle and a second later I join her because what the fuck?

“I feel like I’m losing it,” I whisper between giggles. My eyes fill with tears and I swipe at them with the back of my hand. “I really thought someone was dead.”

“So did I. If you’re losing it then so am I.”

I chuckle and look at my best friend. “I guess I’m in good company then to have a mental breakdown.”

“Where you go, I go,” she tells me with a smile and we hug. “Come on, let’s go find that generator and a whole bottle of wine.” I stand and offer my hand to Alana.

She claps her hand in mine and hops to her feet. “That sounds amazing. Let’s do it!”

We only get a step down the aisle when a man steps out from the corner. Lighting flashes behind him in the window and frames him. As he turns to us, there’s a gun in his hand.

“Oh shit,” Alana whispers.

Chapter Forty-Three

GRANT

“Hurry the fuck up.”

“I’m going as fast as I can without sending us off the road,” I snap. It’s true. We’ve hydroplaned a handful of times. More than is safe in a storm like this but we have to get to Kit. “We’re no fucking use to her dead.”

Rafe grumbles but doesn’t say much else. He’s tense. All the lines of his body are harsh, his mouth twisted in the perpetual scowl that I know so well but there’s more to it.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me. You look like you’re coming out of your skin.”

Rafe takes in a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. “I need to hunt.”

Hunt.

That’s what we’ve called what we do. That darkness that pulls us under and zeroes in on the perfect prey when they come into view. It’s so close to what I feel for Kit, but it’s darker. It’s obsession with an end. The only way there’s release is in ending them, not consuming them. With Kit I want to possess her, to have her with me, close and safe, right next to my heart. I don’t have much of one but she feels enough for the both of us. So far Kit has kept the edge of the need to hunt away.

Things with Dottie Bee changed that.

I feel like my cage got rattled.

I’m riled and so is Rafe but I’ve had speeding through a storm to channel my focus and he hasn’t. “We’ll find someone soon.”

“Who?” Rafe asks. He’s interested.

“Anyone. Does it matter?”

“Yes, it fucking does.”

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