Claimed by the Mafia Biker
she whispered, fear threading her voice.
“You survived it,” I said, gripping the handle of my knife, feeling the familiar weight like an extension of my arm.
“And then you make sure it never comes back.”
Blade gave me a nod, a silent agreement. His gaze flicked to the shadows. “It’s not human. Not really. But it can bleed. And when it bleeds…” His eyes glinted. “…we make it count.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught movement. A black blur, almost imperceptible, circling behind the trees. My heart hammered. The figure was patient, letting us think we had a moment’s reprieve. But that was all it was—an illusion.