Page 41 of Cursed to Be Mine
She snorts and looks heavenward, and the irony of my statement isn’t lost on me.
“Move it,” I snap, my anger at myself bleeding out. “You can yell at me at home, Gen, but right now, we need to –”
The sound of tires steal my words, and Scarlett’s eyes widen as they flick over my shoulder, back towards the road. I raise a finger to my lips, the gun slick against my palm. She nods.
The werewolves would’ve driven here.
And the witches.
Even if it’s just the police doing patrols, the vampires have them in their pockets.
Fuck, it could be the vampires themselves wanting to get in on the action.
Sweat trickles down my back, raising each hair in its path, prickling my skin. My ears strain, muscles pulling at the sides of my face, desperate to hear thecar over the thundering in my skull.
My pulse runs fast and wild.
My gun is empty.
Keep going.
Keep going...
Don’t stop.
The tires crunch over the rough ground, each rotation twisting my nerves. The trees seem to close in around us, their whispering leaves, ominous crackles in the dark. The feeling of being watched, of something hunting us peels at my skin.
We’re not alone.
My eyes dart around the woods. I see nothing, and my attention is pulled back to the car as its engine grows louder. My heartbeat quickens.
I look at my daughter.
“Gen, get up,” I hiss, my voice an urgent whisper as I transfer the gun to my other hand so I can wipe my palm on my thigh.
The Sig grows heavy between my fingers, reminding me it’s empty.
Shit.
The tires slow down, then stop on the road behind me.
I want to turn, but I don’t dare move, knowing a werewolf only needs to hear one crinkle of a leaf to hone in on its prey.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I swallow.
My chest vibrates with shallow breaths.
The engine dies, the quietness of the night like the slam of a coffin.
A car door opens.
No.
Heavy pairs of shoes crunch over dirt, coming our way.
Spinning, I raise my gun as Scarlett scrambles to her feet. I don’t care if it’s empty. I’ll –
“Hannah?” a man calls out, his voice unmistakable even though it’s a mere hiss on the wind.
