Page 77 of Elf Shot

Ciara took a deep breath, and the blackness cleared. Her legs were like jelly as she shuffled across the road and into the apartment lobby. The receptionist was too busy on the phone to notice the blood Ciara was dripping on the polished floors and all the way into the elevator. She pushed the button quickly, so no one could get in after her.

Ciara looked like a pale, blood-flecked corpse in the mirrored sides of the elevator. She looked like she was about to die. Maybe she was. The thought didn't scare her as much as it probably should.

Got to pass on the message, and then you can die, Ciara.

The door binged open, and she shuffled down the hallway. With the last of her strength, she banged on a familiar door, leaving bloody handprints on its pristine surface.

"Please be here…" she croaked. The door opened, and Torsten caught her as she toppled forward.

"Ciara! What the fuck! You're bleeding," he said, carrying her inside and putting her on the couch. He pulled back the corner of her jacket and swore at the bandages. "Gods, Ciara."

"Torst…" she tried to get the words out. She caught at his hand to halt him. "Listen to me."

Torsten crouched down beside her. "Okay, I'm here. What happened?"

"Tor. I found…" Ciara swayed, and his strong hands steadied her. Her vision was growing black again. She was out of time. "I found where Varg was hiding. W-We fought. I got away but he b-bit…"

Tor's eyes went fully wolf. "He bit you? Ciara, you need—"

"Shhhh not important bit."

"The fuck it isn't," he snarled.

Ciara shook her head and put her bloody hand over his mouth. It was such a nice mouth. Ciara's eyes blurred as the blackness took her. "Tor…I found your sister."

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