Hannah Pole - Silence of the Wolves

His lifeless stare seemed to lock onto her, even though his scarred face showed no expression, no hatred, no anger, nothing whatsoever.

Suppressing a shudder and sucking in another harsh breath, Tam lashed out with her feet, kicking the guy in the knee. Even with terror rushing through her, she was determined to fight with all that she had. It was just blind luck that she managed to hit the leg that was injured. The brute gritted his teeth against the pain but otherwise didn’t react; his stare didn’t waver and he didn’t seem remotely fazed by what was happening to his body. And they called her a freak! What about this guy?

Drawing together all her reserves, Tam lashed out again at the same knee. There was a sickening crack. The guy toppled as his leg gave way, his grip loosening, but his eyes didn’t leave hers, not for a second. Even as he went down and his torso hit the floor, those black eyes stayed locked onto her. Assessing her, memorising her.

Tam went into a freefall, her body cascading downwards and hitting the floor with a thud. She didn’t even have time to catch her breath before a shooting pain sliced its way through her. Her body was suddenly engulfed with a roaring heat that seemed to seep out of her chest, melting her skin as it went. What the hell was going on?

Blinding pain swept through her again, quickly becoming all that she could feel, all that she was, and all that she knew until the blackness overtook her, claiming her.

Leyth hid in the shadows, pressed against the wall as he watched Tamriel Chambers leave the office. It was 9 p.m. by the time she’d switched off her computer and walked out. He watched her stride past him like she was on a mission, and slowly followed, keeping to the shadows as he went. He was practically invisible in the dark, especially given that he, like most of his race, had the ability to sink into the darkness, allowing the shadows to engulf him so completely that even the keenest eye couldn’t detect him. Not even a vampire would be able to spot him at night. But hell, the infection was coming on strong; it was growing every day now. Silently sprinting through the streets behind her, he kept to the walls, hidden in the darkest shadows of the night. Tam looked mighty angry, thundering along the path as she was, her brows drawn tight as she made her way back to the apartment. Her long black hair was streaming out behind her in the wind, head down as she focused on the pavement ahead.

She looked mighty fine in those skintight jeans she had on, her heavy woollen jumper billowing around her tiny waist. He’d been watching her for a few weeks now, just watching and waiting. Up until now, she’d had no idea he was near most of the time, and though she had no idea who he was, he knew her intimately. He knew everything about her, right down to how she liked her coffee.

Leyth had to stop himself from snorting. Christ, he sounded like a stalker. Hell, he basically was doing exactly that. Even so, as he watched her walk, her heavy jumper swaying with her hips, his memories of her tears, her sadness at night when she thought she was alone in her flat, hit him hard in the gut, sparking an instantaneous reaction. What the hell was that? Sympathy? No. Concern? Maybe.

Whatever it was, it was a first; he’d never given a damn about anyone before and, gut reaction or not, that was never going to change.

Nevertheless, in a strange, desperate moment of compassion, all he wanted to do was help her in some way; to comfort her perhaps. He actually reached out, his hand getting close enough to that silky black hair to stroke it. Before he knew what he was doing, she stopped him in his tracks as she whipped her head round, eyes searching the shadows with cold determination. Crap, he’d almost blown it.

He slowly slid his nearly invisible form back against the wall, deeper into the shadows, and held his breath as he watched her scan the area again.

Sure as hell, she knew someone was there, knew he was watching her. She crouched down and checked underneath the cars, behind the trees, and through the windows of surrounding houses before, slowly, jogging towards her building. Christ, that was close.

‘ Get off me !’ Leyth’s keen hearing picked the sound with ease, though it was coming from almost a mile away. In a past life he might have gone to investigate; it was clearly a ‘damsel in distress’ and the alpha inside him bringing the other half of his soul roaring to the surface. But these days, that half was suppressed by the will of the council, constrained by duties and laws. Besides, he had other things to deal with.

Glancing at Tamriel, he noted that her pace had slowed almost to a stop and she was listening closely. As she broke into a sprint, he realised that she’d also heard the female in distress, and was going to her aid. Running flat-out to keep up with her, he followed her through the streets of Folkestone, baffled by how keen her senses were, marvelling at how accurately she followed her ears.

Finally, they reached a quiet road, off which there was an alleyway that led behind a large block of flats. The metallic scent of blood rode the air, stirring the beast at his core. Blood lust roared its way to the surface, making his mouth water. He thrust it back down, telling his instincts to put a muzzle on it. Now was not the time!

He watched as Tam crept through the alleyway, slowly reaching the walled entrance to the small square of space between the two buildings. She paused, again listening intently.

Crap, where did she get that knife from?

His confusion took a back seat as she launched herself from the space she was crouched in, landing a kick on the man who was stood in the shadows of the buildings surrounding them. The force of it sent him smashing into a wall, cracking his leg as he went; Leyth heard the bone fracture as it hit the brick. Glancing over at the guy, he noted the faint scent of death that prickled his nose. It was a tuhrned .

Cursing himself for not noticing the Circle’s minion, and his bad luck for the situation he’d landed in, Leyth shifted position, ready to kick the crap out of the zombiefied traitor but, as he did, Tamriel caught his attention.

Fragile as she seemed, she was a picture of strength, ready for combat. As the guy launched at her, she dodged his blows with grace, only getting hit a couple of times and, when the tide turned, she attacked with deadly precision, catching him in all the right places. She definitely had her father’s blood in her veins.

Finishing him off with an elbow to the back of the neck, the pale bastard fell to the floor in a heap. He wouldn’t stay that way though, tombs just didn’t stop; their corpse-like bodies could keep on going even after death.

Pulling himself back to reality, Leyth considered doing Tamriel a favour and cutting the tomb’s head off, but since she had handled things well so far, Leyth decided to leave her to it; to see if she could look after herself alone.

Best to stand back and see how this played out anyway. Maker only knew, he didn’t want her to find out he’d been following her. Yet.

Praying her senses were still on alert, he watched her pull out her phone and call someone; he stepped back as the tomb got to its feet. The bastard didn’t even give her time to breathe as it kicked the phone from her hand and slammed her against the wall, crushing her throat. It was going to kill her.

Moving swiftly forward, he was careful to stay in the shadows behind the tuhrned, keeping out of its line of sight, they would know he was there otherwise. He pulled on the bomber jacket the tomb was wearing, tugging it just hard enough for its grip to loosen, to give her a chance to grab at some air.

She lashed out with her foot, cracking the tomb twice in the knee until bone cracked and shattered, sending the thing down to the ground.