Page 66 of The Dire Legacy

The gray haired leech snaps on a pair of rubber gloves and moves to inspect his new patient. “What happened?”

Both men start talking at once.

But, I get the gist. Wolves attacked their vehicle. He’s the only survivor.

My pack. It has to be. They’re the only ones for miles.

A surge of excitement powers through me. Alpha came for me?

My new mission in life is to feed every single one of these damn dam people to the dogs.

“This is the best day of my life.” Leaning back, I look at the ceiling with a little glimmer of happiness.

“What is wrong with you? We just lost two good men and this one is badly wounded.” Mr. Mysterious Number One yells at me from across the room.

A smile teases up my lips as I remember what Michael promised me.

His hellhounds are coming for me.

Everyone is nervous and I love it. The door never rests on its hinges as people come in and out to talk to the man on the stretcher.

It took nearly a pint from me to close his wound.

He must not be anything more than human. It took Michael only a fingertip for him to heal from a gunshot.

A twinge goes through my belly. I still regret pulling the trigger. But, not so much since it led to our truths being revealed.

What I wouldn’t give to have his special kind of poison burn me again.

Near evening, an alarm blares from outside.

Shit, it’s loud.

JD and Kyle jump up from their seats at the table.

Well, JD doesn’t jump. He heaves. Then scurries. Like a rat.

The wounded one sits up and pulls his lines free from his arm. He actually glowers at me like it’s my fault there’s an insanely intense noise before he follows them through the door.

Are those gunshots? Some are close, others are farther away.

Screams. Yelling.

I’m finally alone. My hands are bound so tightly I can’t move them. I try anyway. Jerking as hard as I can fails to gain me the right angle to pop my thumb out of joint.

Tears of frustration burn down my cheeks as I twist and pull.

This is my only chance.

The strap around my chest keeps me from being able to reach my hands. I’d gnaw them off if I could just reach them.

Inches. Freedom sits close enough I can reach it with my tongue.

Adding my own scream to the cacophony outside doesn’t seem to fix my problem, but it makes me feel better.

JD blows in through the door, his face red and his pistol drawn. “We gotta move you someplace secure.” Handcuffs appear in his hands as he starts unbuckling my wrists.

As soon as one is loose, I rip it out of his hand and try to claw at his face. “You can kiss my ass! Let me go!” My nails connect and leave a furrow down one of his ruddy cheeks.

---