Nothing Left to Give *completed*

Nothing Left to Give - chapter 13

Can I get a 'Yay!' for new covers that actually match the current title?!

And a 'yay!' for finally uploading after, what was it, seven years?!

And a 'yay!' just because it's fun?!

And a 'yay!' because I'm finally going to leave you alone and actually post the chapter?!

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Autumn’s POV

The bar is completely deserted when I walk into it, besides for the man running a damp rag over the counter. He raises his eyes to me when I come in and jumps a little. I roll my eyes at his reaction, taking a seat on one of the edge stools.

I slap a bill on the counter. “Give me something… strong.” That is a definite downside to being a werewolf. Your alcohol tolerance is much higher, so it takes much longer to get drunk out of your wits.

“We’re closed,” the man squeaks.

“Shut the f up. I walked in here. I sat down. I put my money on the bar. NOW GIVE ME SOMETHING F-ING STRONG.” With a squeak, the guy sets something clear on the bar. Wimp.

I down it before persistently tapping the bar for another. Seven drinks later and nowhere near my drunken destination, the guy grows the balls and asks me to leave again. Bored of his cowering, I leave with a huff.

That crap they gave me wasn’t very strong anyway.

Outside, it’s drizzling again.

I don’t really care.

I sing Seether’s  Fake It under my breath as I walk through narrow, dark allies. If this is a horror movie, now would be the perfect time for a scary man with a hook for a hand to jump out of the shadows, and the damsel to run screaming away. But, then again, I’m not exactly a damsel, and a man with a hook for a hand would be more likely to run screaming from me.

“Whoa, whoa you’re such a little hypocrite,” I hum, swinging my arms slightly.

I don’t know when I notice the fact that someone is watching me. I can feel their stare on the back of my neck. I’m not really worried, of course. They can’t be much of a threat if they haven’t made a move yet. And, even if they had, no one is much of a threat to me.

On closer inspection of the scene, it’s strange that I haven’t heard them. I am a werewolf after all, with all the super hearing entailed, and I’m used to hearing or smelling things before I pick up on them in any other way. The smell of rain cloys against everything, and it might have muffled my hearing a little too, but I should be able to hear any constant pursuit.

Which, according to my mega detective skills, can only mean one thing. Whoever is following me, isn’t human. As drastically dire as that may sound, I’m still not worried. Why would I be, I’m not human either.

I stop in the middle of the alley. My cloak stirs slightly in the wind.

What a cliché western movie moment. Now, if only the clock would strike midnight.

I hear whoever was tailing my step out of the shadows, stealth abandoned as they realized they had been discovered. I pull up my hood without turning.

“Turn around,” a voice growls. “I want to see your face before I kill you.” That voice… A stab of pain shoots right through the hard walls built around my heart. Not from anything physical. Just from that voice. I lower my head and comply slowly.

“Look at me,” I’m ordered. I look up, my face still kept in deep shadow.

“And now the hood.” Slow fingers reach to grip the edge of the fabric, easing it back. I meet his eyes for a moment, just a moment is all I can stand. Just a single endless moment. I see the shock flit there, over the cold surface. I don’t remember him being that cold. Something passes between us, or, maybe its single sided, but something inside me cracks, some of that hard scar tissue breaks away and leaves part of me vulnerable.