Page 87 of The Second Deal

Herbeak is perfectly ivory tonight, so she must have just changed.

“Who’swatchingDreaifShannon’sout on business and you’re pulling your bullshit tonight, huh?”Iquestion angrily.

Herbeak opens and a blood-curdling screech pierces my eardrums.

Myeyes widen andItake a few steps back.Itrip over something huge and solid, falling backward.

Myknees are raised to my chest.WhenIreach out, prickly fur jabs my skin.

Ijolt backwards untilIhit the concrete side of the approach.

Myhand automatically covers my gaping mouth to contain a gasp, but that’s whenIfeel it: my hands are covered in something slick.

Thescent of wet dog and death hits me as the taste of musky copper coats my lips.

Anawful retch grips my stomach asIquickly rub my palms over my shirt and shorts to wipe the blood off my hands.

“Steph, what the fuck are you doing?”

Iscream, cowering further against the concrete.Wetnessseeps into the seat of my shorts as my eyes focus on the approaching figure.

Zak’sbrows furrow, and his lips part. “Oh,Jesus.”

Krisshrieks again.

“Whatthe fuck do you want?”Iyell at her asIrace to stand.Ican’t stop wiping my hands on material—I’mcovered, soaked in my own blood and some poor animal’s. “I’mnot fucking dying, so if that’s what you want, you can forget it, bitch!”

“Stephani.”

Theeerie calm inZak’svoice sets all my nerves on high alert.Myheart pounds against my sternum, and tears cloud my vision thatIcan’t blink away.

“Stephani,” he repeats, his dark eyes wide and focused far too intently on me to just be in shock from the amount of bloodI’mcovered in.

He’snot staringatme—more like ogling.

“Youneed to leave.”

Mymouth opens and closes asIglance betweenKrisandZakand rub my damp fingers together. “Areyou gonna take care of her?”

“Leave,” he roars in a voice far deeper than normal.

Iturn to run, but my feet slip on slimy concrete.Ifall face first intoZak’sfeet and quickly clamber to get away.

Ahand grabs my arm and yanks me back.

“Ow!”Iyelp from the gash in my arm tearing further apart as pain rages into my shoulder.

Zaksquats beside me, examining my grisly arm in his hands like a piece of steak at the butcher counter.Hisfingers are gentle as they drag through my blood.Herubs them together, bringing it closer to study the viscosity like he’s never seen such a substance before.

Then, he stuffs his bloodied fingers into his mouth.

Hiseyes flutter closed; he sighs in content and sucks his fingers clean.

Myeyes shatter wide open, realization knocking the breath out of my lungs.

“Zak, no,”Ibeg in a whisper.

Hebrings my arm to his mouth and licks the gore, tonguing lacerated flesh that oozes maroon liquid.

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