Page 14 of Hunt Me
And she needs to start taking me seriously. I have a reputation to uphold.
Biting down my irritation at her slating my appearance, I focus on her last statement.
‘That’s what your problem is? Did I wound your pride or something?’ I scoff, folding my arms across my chest.
We’re standing on another street, this one less damaged than the ones we travelled through earlier. There is no one but the full moon above to watch us.
‘Of course not. My ego isn’t as fragile as yours.’ She looks me up and down, a sneer across her face.
So that’s what this is all about.
‘Ahh little deer. I see.’ I grin under my mask.
She fancies me and, like yours, truly she has no idea how to flirt.
‘What?’
‘You’ve got a thing for the mask hmm?’ I motion at my face. ‘Don’t worry, baby. You’re not the first.’
I lean forwards, allowing our bodies to touch, and tip her chin upwards with my knuckle. I lift it to look directly into her hazel eyes, the reflection of the moon lit sky shining through them.
Her lips part in an o, and her soft palm travels up my torso to the back of my neck. She has to stretch to get there, pushing her body closer to mine, and a shiver of pleasure races through me.
I lean in.
So does she.
Then I feel her fist snatch at my mask ripping it back from my face. My momentary shock allows her to slam her forehead into the bridge of my nose and pain ricochets throughout my face.
‘What the fuck?’ I shout.
She steps back as I continue to curse, holding my bleeding nose.
Her laughter echoes across the night sky and I look up to find a shit-eating grin spread across her face.
Little Miss Mischief indeed.
A small splatter of my blood sits on her top lip from where she’d been too slow to move away from my busted nose. And the urge to swipe it off with my tongue builds. Of course, the mocking tone to her voice does nothing but spur on any fantasies I might have thought up when she speaks.
‘Didn’t know Skulls hired pretty boys.’
Chapter Seven
??
Fauna
He’s not what I expected, not at all in fact.
The Skulls are spoken about like some mad new race of animalistic humans, like they have mutations to give them special skills. Something that also makes them monsters.
Their actions show it. The way the man in front of me pulled out his axes, ready to cut down anyone in his way, showed it. So why hasn’t he done that to me? And more importantly, why did he come sprinting after me when he thought that scream was my own?
The look of hunger for violence was clear in his shining forest green eyes. He looked like murder incarnated.
If I wasn’t offended he assumed I couldn’t defend myself I'd probably swoon. But I can’t help but hold a grudge, I’m petty like that. Plus it still baffles me that anyone left in this world sees a woman and assumes they are weak — do they not realise how brutal it is? Anyone left alive is no push over, no matter howsweet and innocent they look. Those who look weak should be watched closely because they usually surprise you the most.
Despite my irritation, I can’t help but notice how normal he looks without his mask. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t a sharp jawline with a day's worth of stubble. And for fucks sake why does he look sogood.
