Vesta watched from behind the safety of a car parked along
the side of the road as Zade exited the building with nothing but basketball
shorts on. She would have laughed had the circumstances not been as they were.
Zade’s dark eyes scanned the area, alighting upon Vesta
peering at him from over the hood of a red truck.
“You,” He hissed, making his way towards her.
“Now Zade,” She stood, holding her hands up in surrender, “I
only did what was needed to be done,”
Zade leapt over the hood of the truck. Obviously he still
had adrenaline in his system from the aftereffects of the wolfsbane.
He was within inches of Vesta’s face, baring his teeth in a
very inhuman manner. She could smell the sharp tang of blood on his breath.
Against her will, Vesta’s heart rose in her throat, panic driving her mad.
“You stay away from us. Or Iwillkill you,”
“You? Really? I don’t think you have the guts,”
He wrapped his hand around her neck, squeezing just enough
to the point where it was uncomfortable.
“Try me,” His eyes were large and wild, pupils dilated to
He relaxed his grip, whipping his head back towards the
Annabelle stood by the door in a nightgown, searching for
His hand clamped over Vesta’s mouth, pulling her down to the
pavement, completely hidden behind the old red truck.
The witch licked his palm and Zade pulled it away in
“I wasn’t going to say anything lycanthrope. Don’t get your tail in a knot,” She wiped the fowl
taste of werewolf from her lips and spat upon the ground.
Zade stood, grinning sheepishly in Annabelle’s direction. He
went around the nose of the vehicle, instead of jumping over it this time,
walking back towards the condo.
Vesta breathed deeply, trying to calm her frantically
So showing your girl what you really are isn’t going to work hmm?
She thought to herself, pulling a black
bladed dagger from her pocket – an ancient witch relic.
Then I’ll have to kill her – if you don’t kill me first
The witch shuddered at this horrid thought, slipping the
weapon back inside her pocket. The smooth touch of the metal through the
pocket’s fabric comforted her.
It whispered to her that all would be fine.
Annabelle would soon die.