Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
The scent kept getting stronger and he could tell there was more than one wolf in the park. Hmm, a full pack on the prowl? That was something even Laurent, with his supernatural speed and strength, didn’t care to meet. He might be able to best one wolf alone, maybe even two if it came to a fight. But he had no wish to try himself against an entire pack.
Turning aside from the dense vegetation, where he’d been moving silently through the underbrush, he walked out into the open. The scent seemed fainter here. He stepped into a pool of moonlight, meaning to go another way, when suddenly he heard it—a long, liquid howl that wavered in the night air like a lonesome sob. His heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was time to make more of an effort to leave the park. Celeste might have been listening to silly rumors when she warned him off the wolves but then again, there is often a grain of truth in even the wildest tale.
“There’s one! There, in that clearing!” The voice shouting the words was hoarse and savage and the one that answered it was worse.
“Get him. Fuck ’im up, the muerto hijo de puta.”
The dead son of a bitch—they’re talking about me! Heart pounding in his chest, Laurent turned again, heading back into the underbrush. He doubted it would do any good to explain to the angry pack that since he was a born vampire not a made one, he wasn’t technically dead. His lungs still breathed air and his heart still pumped blood through his body—indeed, he could feel it pumping double time now as he prepared to flee.
But before he could take a single step they were all around him—most still in human form, though there were a few who had shed their skins and become the beast within. Those were down at his feet, snapping and growling angrily but the rest were eerily quiet, as though waiting for something to begin.
That something turned out to be a signal from what Laurent assumed was the pack leader. He was tall, six foot one to Laurent’s own five foot eleven, with jet black hair and piercing black eyes that were set just a little too close together to be handsome. Not that Laurent thought he had a chance in hell of picking this particular male up.
“Hey, bloodsucker.” The tall dark-haired one poked him in the chest hard.
“Where’s the rest of your coven, huh? You tell us and maybe we’ll let you go. Maybe.”
“I don’t have a coven—I’m here by myself,” Laurent said at once and then cursed himself for a fool. Now they would know he was alone with no one else of the Blood to back him up. How could he be so foolish?
But it was clear the tall black-haired wolf didn’t believe him. “Yeah, right. Fucking liar.” He poked Laurent in the chest again. “Look how he’s dressed—all fancy and shit.
Must be a whole bunch of them out here having some kinda fancy fucking party—like a vamp version of a quince. One of them must have just turned a hundred and fifty or something.”
This drew laughter from the rest of the pack and to Laurent’s dismay, they drew even closer. He wanted to run but he was hemmed in on every side. And if he started a fight there was no doubt he would be ripped to pieces—there were fifteen wolves still human and five or ten more in beast form. His only chance was to talk his way out of the situation but his mouth was suddenly dry and his mind was blank.
“Maybe he’s dressed like that because he’s a faggot,” one of the other wolves said.
“Fucking mariposa.” He made a dainty fluttering gesture with his hands like a butterfly’s wings and the other wolves laughed again, a deep troll-like sound that turned Laurent’s blood to ice. He couldn’t help noticing that most of them were dressed in baggy denim shorts or jeans and nothing else. Their muscular chests and arms were covered with tattoos, the meanings of which weren’t entirely clear—not that he was going to ask.
“Yeah, that must be it. He’s a faggot and he’s looking for some fresh blood. Isn’t that right, you maricon vampiro? ” demanded the leader.
No fear. I mustn’t show fear or they’ll be on me in a heartbeat. “I was simply out for a stroll in the park,” he said, keeping his chin up and hoping his voice didn’t waver. “I’m not even from this area—we moved here from Paris a month ago. So whatever quarrel you have with the local vampires, I take no part in it.”
Unfortunately, his speech seemed to anger the pack even more. “Oh you’ll take part in it, all right,” snarled the leader. “C’mon, let’s fuck ’im up.”