Page 67 of Venomous Kiss
God, I’m so fucking stupid?
“In the shadows, we hunt. In the night, we kill.” It echoes through the forest, a chorus of voices all at once.
They sound closer…
Or is it my imagination?
“We hear you,” one sings out.
I stop and fall forward, bending over, trying to catch my breath.
I listen for footsteps, but I can’t hear anything over my heavy breathing and pounding heart.
“I think she’s stopped. How stupid can one be?”
That voice sounds like Arlo’s. I contemplate calling out to him, telling him it’s me, but what if he knew all along it was me who they would be hunting tonight? What if he was just there to get close to me to watch my downfall.
It’s risky to call out his name.
But what other choice do I have?
Just keep on running and hope and pray they never find me. Will I freeze to death if I manage to do that? Or will one of them find me and kill me before then?
The rustle of leaves gets closer, and I hold my breath as I hear the footsteps. Sliding down the tree into a crouched position, I unstrap the knife and grip it with cold hands.
If I’m going down, I’m taking at least some of them with me.
“I’ve always wanted to play with my prey.”
I’m ninety percent sure that’s Arlo. But I don’t want to risk that he’s here to actually kill me because I’m ninety-five percent sure he is.
I hold my breath for a moment before I breathe through my nose as he steps closer. He doesn’t know I’m here, but I know where he is. As soon as he steps close enough, I jump out and stab my knife straight into his arm. His eyes behind the mask go wide, and he drops his gun. It’s not like the night in the alley; this is different. This one, I don’t get to relish in it. This time, I am the one running for my life.
“Lilith?” he says, surprised, his voice echoing with disbelief. I quickly crouch down and snatch the gun before I turn and bolt. “Lilith!” he screams out after me, his voice filled with shock and desperation.
But I don’t stop.
I can’t stop.
I fucking run.
They think I’m weak.
I’ll show them who I am.
I am the Lord’s fucking daughter.
TWENTY-FIVE
REON
“You’re late,” Soren says with a smug smirk etched on his lips, standing there with his shoulders back; and his mask in hand. I slide mine on and grab my axe from the car. He lights a cigarette and leans against his car as he watches me. “You’re never late, so what’s the deal, Reon?”
“I had plans, but I’m here.” Looking around, I see the car of tonight’s Hunt victim is not visible, which is not unusual since Soren usually has them removed.
“The Hunt has begun, and we all know you love to win. But you’ve let everyone go ahead of you tonight.” He shakes his head, takes a long draw of his cigarette, and I wait for him to finish. He blows out the smoke and looks down at the ground. “You better win this Hunt, Reon.”
“Why?” I ask, twisting the axe in my hand.
