"She is Beautiful but she's Beautiful in the way a Forest Fire is Beautiful. Something to be admired in the distance... not up close" -Kira London
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(Sequel to We Must Be Killers)
Wolves and Foxes don't mix.
Everyone knows that.
There i...
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By midnight, darkness is absolute.
Not a person on the streets and not a store open, the night has grown quiet in the small town. The residents have long since gone to bed leaving only the creatures of the night to roam the empty streets facing against the real monsters this world has to offer.
The neon open sign flickers in the window of the only place still open in the quaint town. Sharp nails tapping against the tabletop in front of the large cafe window with ears twitching with every sound like a predator.
Peering into the darkness of the main street, I scour for the invisible intruders knowing they're out there. Somewhere. Just waiting for me to leave the comfort of the cafe and the innocent humans in the kitchen to make their move.
I keep my expression impassive even though I want to sneer with annoyance.
Relaxing against the back of the wicker chair, I force myself to keep calm in such a dangerous situation. Although I don't feel in danger, the assholes who stepped into my town should feel it. With enough guts to pass over the sign that welcomes you here to go around and torture our humans for information, you're begging to be ripped apart.
Moving my gaze to scan over the last text message from my beta, while a long exhale flows out through my mouth.
He missed his deadline. He always messages me to let me know he's okay while he's overseas. He's never missed one since he left a year ago. He missed the deadline.
Every call has gone to voicemail. Every text message left unread. No contact ever since he declared he was going back to Beacon Hills.
I should have gone with him, but I'm needed here. I was afraid to go back there after everything. No mention all the stories I've heard coming from that town recently, but now I wish I had.
If any of them touch my beta I'll make those bastards death last for decades.
"Excuse me, miss London." the pretty waitress smiles nervously, her eyes flickering from the ground to her hands. "We're closing" her voice is hardly above a whisper.
Reaching out, I grab her hand soothingly, grinning up at her "Of course. Thank you, Larissa"
The young dirty blonde girl, no older than seventeen, bows her head in respect before sending me a small grin back.
When the first heel steps out into the pavement, burning eyes of multiple people land on me from their spot in the dark. It causes the animal instinct deep within my bones to come alive, hairs standing on end, and the overwhelming desire to bare my teeth.
Instead, I simply turn on my heels and saunter down the main street. Acting as if this was a normal night that I take for myself out in the town. With calculated steps, my ears trained on the eight heartbeats surrounding me and even more beyond those.
