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chapt one, no rest for the wicked.
She screwed up.
Her knees smack into a puddle slapping her flaming face with frost, the pale moon's reflection ripples in the murky water, lungs tremble and burns desperately gulping a slip of air. Emily screwed up bad.
She's breathing too loud. He'll hear. Keep moving, don't stick to one place. Don't stick to one place or he'll find her. The trees scratch her arms hissing at her for being stupid enough to follow the big bad wolf into the woods, this is her fault! It's her own fault!
Her parents warned her every time they step inside a new town, never go out at night alone, not yet. Not until her birthday. It was scratched into her brain, throbbing each time the motel door swings opens. Her mouth was dry. Her foot stumbles over roots and she digs her fingers into the soil yet bashes her shoulder onto the ground as a sting dribbles down her finger from a shimmering metal. Emily grunts, clutching her thumping shoulder, harsh huffs flares out of her nose trying to control herself.
Growling. Where are they when she needed them most? She's trained with Wallace and mom and dad, studied her enemies' weaknesses and strengths but it's never been face to face. The earth rattles with each stomp. The smell was weird. It stung her nostrils like mint. Trees slid their branches around their bodies to keep him from ripping it off with his teeth. Her heart beats with the soil, keeping her grip tight.
Before Emily could suck in a breath, she's ripped from the ground and a roar smacks into her face dripping saliva. Blue eyes. Blue eyes. His claws dug in her wrist twisting the dagger out of her clutch, her teeth grits and eyebrows pinched unable to swallow down the ache racing up and down her bone. She shouldn't need them to fight her losing battle. He shoved her into a tree, her head bounced off the bark vibrating a sharp pound thundering in her skull.
Emily's eyes twisted shut, struggling to be brought back into time without feeling like her head was going to tumble off. The pound smacks into each corner of her skull blinding her vision. This isn't the end.
She caught him right where she wanted. A whistle stings her ears, bright excited grass stains her knees from skidding. The thin, white lacrosse stick bumped into the lacrosse goal and the ball stayed inside and coach shouts profound praises at her like neon signs. There's no winning against Emily, the boys should know that by now.
"You've been practicing," She glanced up at Danny as she picked herself up, a smile curved on his lips almost as bright as the yellow sun timid behind fading clouds. One of the few friendly faces amongst the hung shoulders jogging back to position.
Always. There's no rest for hunters like Emily Lake.
