Hunter's Alpha (gxg) ✓

22. Throat Slit

"First of all, you have got to stop calling me little lamb."

It's probably not the smartest thing to say to a girl with murder in her eyes and a knife in her hand. Fortunately━or unfortunately, I suppose━I wouldn't say that smart is an attribute of mine.

She takes a step closer. The knife glints.

"You humiliated me, you humiliated my boyfriend, and I know you're a spy," Emilie says.

Think fast. Think fast. All I have in my hand is a flashlight.

I really wish I had my weapons. A gun. A knife. But they stripped me of those after I tried to escape, and now I'm empty-handed against someone with a murderous look in her eyes.

This floor is a maze. I have no idea how to get out of here.

It still doesn't stop me from saying, "I humiliated you? You do that without my help."

Her lips twist into a snarl. Emilie is pretty━that blonde hair, a waterfall of ringlets down her back. The bright blue eyes, lined in dark ink. But now, as she lunges toward me, all I can think is, This is Hunter's type?

I sidestep easily. At least my fighting skills are still strong, and I'm in the mood for a fight.

You know what? Fuck this. I'm not running. I'm not going to get lost in this little labyrinth of marble corridors and little statues.

I just found out my mom has been lying to me for my whole life. My entire life━based on deception. Based on half-truths. Based on someone who was trying to protect me.

I don't need to be protected. Not by Hunter. Not by my mom. Not by anyone.

With a casual flick, I disarm Emilie of her knife. The silver skitters across the floor, and her eyes dart toward it, giving me an opening. I sidestep over her and swing my fist towards her jaw.

The punch that cracks her head back fills me with something a little like satisfaction.

This━this is what I am craving.

A fight.

You chose the wrong day to corner me.

Emilie dives towards her knife, and I tackle her. Her arm wraps around my back, and we roll until she hits the wall.

"You'll pay for this," she growls.

"You know, that goth-eyeliner look went out of style in 2012," I say. Really, I think it's thoughtful. But it only seems to enrage her. No idea why.

Her hands wrap around my throat.

Oh, the strangling route?

Baby, I invented this one.

I knock her forehead against mine, savouring the sharp bliss of pain. Her eyes roll back momentarily, and I use the opportunity to slam her head into the wall.

Dazed, her fingers desperately pry at me. Scratching at my neck. Reaching further behind me.

I don't see what she's doing until too late. Her hand latches onto the knife.