Page 59 of Dark Flame
She can’t be that stupid…
I peer through the glassless, damaged opening, spotting the two wingback chairs on the ground, one with its legs broken, and the scattering of her clothing, towels, and her grandmother’s book.
She is. She’sthatstupid.
Tricky fucking witch.I’d smile if I weren’t so pissed. Could appreciate her determination and creativity if I didn’t dislike it so much. Her determination truly would make an excellent vampire, if she didn’t have so much of that witchy cunning.
I step from the window, the ground and my feet coming together in a slightthudwith impact. I study the items all around me, and then the grounds bathed in nightfall.
Sinclair knew precisely what she was doing. She planned and waited until I would be unable to come for her, but all she’s done is piss me off. No matter how far she’s run in however long it’s been since her daring escape, Iwillcatch her. And when I do…
A few different outcomes flit through my mind, each one more inviting than the last.
Finding her is my first task. Punishing her will come later.
Hunt.
Chase.
Kill.
Hunt.
Chase.
Feed.
My senses attune to her. My eyes shut for a moment, picturing the direction my scared little witch took off to. My nose picks up her trail on the wind, as though the very nature witches pray to is on my side rather than hers. My fangs lengthen, readying to attack, and my eyes are taken over with a bloodred coating as the monster is released from his cage.
Harlow Sinclair is no longer revenge for my sister’s death. She’s my prey.
And I’ll soon remind her why running from a vampire is a bad fucking idea.
It’s dark with very little light seeping through the treetops. It’s cloudy tonight, so the nearly full moon is mostly covered. It’s appropriate that the darkness is on my side, which has me wondering how she’s faring with vision equivalent to a mortal’s.
Her trail zigzags through the forest. Crafty witch, but smart too, as she’s obviously trying to confuse my tracking abilities by not running in a straight line. At one point, she doubles back before taking a different direction. All these tricks are costing her; she won’t be as far as she could be without the detours.
Scurrying scared, knowing eventually I’d figure out her ploy. Probably getting tired by now, considering her body is no better than a mortal’s, and without magick, she has no advantage. Between us, I’m able to go all night, while at some point, she’ll collapse.
Hunt.
Chase.
Kill.
Her scent is stronger near a tree, and I suspect this is where she took a break. Without water, surely she won’t be able to go on much longer. I continue in the direction her scent continues, pushing through thick shrubbery.
In the branches, blowing with the wind, are strands of orange-red. Hair that’s evidently been ripped from her scalp during her determination to go the most difficult route. Chuckling, I unloop them from the branches and release them into the wind. They blow behind me, in the direction of my castle, exactly where Sinclair will be locked within when I catch her.
After the hair disappears from view, I dart off again. With every step, her scent intensifies. I’ve doubled what she ran in hours in mere minutes.
Yet she believed she could escape me?I’ll prove why that was a stupid idea.
Hunt.
Chase.
Kill.
