His Little Hunter
The two vamps moved in unison, sinking their teeth into the woman’s flesh.
Her eyes shot wide. A scream tore from her throat. Not of pleasure, but of pure, piercing agony.
“Showtime,” the voice in my ear commanded.
Bang.
The shot was deafening. A wet, crushing sound followed instantly as the high-caliber round obliterated the skull of the vampire with the man bun.
He was thrown backward by the force of the impact, his body limp before it even hit the ground.
My turn.
I released the breath I’d been holding. I unsheathed my sword, the metal singing against the scabbard, and launched myself off the roof.
Bab Populer