Marcus' Prey

Chapter Four

He was a he, after all. I'd named him Inua, which was a native word for the spirit, and my mother had been so proud. She'd loved that I'd taken such a deep interest in her, and my, culture. I'd always loved listening to her stories.

Inua was my dearest friend. My protector. His perky ears and tapered snout brought me joy in the darkest days of my life. I'd held him close at night. When I'd been too exhausted to keep watch, his yellow eyes did it for me.

I knew that jackals were regarded with fear by many, but I'd always been a starry-eyed child with a passion for the stories of the misunderstood. Scar had been my favorite character in The Lion King. In the movie Hercules, Hades had been the one I mooned after.

They were just like me.

Now, holding Inua to my chest, his familiar softness and scent calmed my building anxiety, slowing my racing heart. I could do this. I was good at running away. No one had caught me.

Yet.

I shivered at the ominous thought. Slinging the small backpack over my shoulders, I threw a few wadded bills on the bed for the maid and started toward the door.

There was a knock.

A normal person would have died if they were in my position. A normal person might've frozen. They might've answered the door, looking through the peephole to see if it was a friend first.

The difference was, I didn't have any friends.

So, I did none of these things.

I darted to the window, opening it easily and punching out the screen. I was on the second floor, and though the height wasn't dizzying, it still made me pause.

The door slammed open with a shriek of rending metal.

I whirled just in time to see one of my brothers stalking towards me, murder in his blood-red eyes.

"Got you now, you little bit-"

His sentence cut off, incomplete, as one of my many throwing knives buried itself in his throat. Right on target, as always.

I didn't wait for any other unexpected family members to come barreling through. I was in no mood for a reunion. And there would be others. They never worked alone. Unlike me, they were pack animals. Like rabid, slavering wolves, they hunted together, sharing in the spoils.

I vaulted from the window, rolling to take the pressure of the fall from my joints. Then, I ran.

Luckily, I hadn't been stupid enough to park my ride in the front parking lot. There were too many eyes there, and heading out the front door wasn't what I would call a reliable escape plan. So, I'd stashed my bike in the woods behind the motel, like a smart assassin. I just had to follow the trail.

It wasn't as low-key as I would've liked. The path was dirt, yet hard-packed from years of feet, and plenty obvious. No one wanted to hide it, after all. It was winding and covered well by trees and shrubbery, but the path was wide and well-known.

I felt terribly exposed as I made my way down the path, as discreetly as I could manage. I hugged the edge of the path, clutching the dagger I had nestled inside my black fleece coat. My heart was in my throat, and I felt sure that anyone within five feet of me could have heard it. My breath wanted to come in rapid gasps, and only my training kept instinct on such a tight reign. I couldn't afford to

And then, the silence was broken.

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" A rumbly male voice, deep and resonant, reached my ears, sending my already racing heart into overdrive. With terror, of course. Naturally.