Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
A rustle comes from behind me and I spin around, my finger resting on the trigger.
A mouse scurries away, blinded by the light.
The sound of running reaches me, and I sprint ahead, then stop.
While I don’t find the outsider, I spot Jude standing by the bloodied corpse of his latest victim.
The man’s face is unrecognizable. Half of it has turned to mush as he slumps against a tree, his head lolled against his belly.
Jude’s stick is dripping with blood, and his raincoat is smeared with dark stains.
He tilts his head in my direction, his face splashed, his eyes blank. “Not enough. He died too soon. Give me another name, Kane.”
It’s a high.
An obsession.
The feeling of never having enough of something, no matter how much you consume it.
It’s why I steer clear of anything prone to muddying my logic.
I don’t do fixations or attachments.
Obsessions or addictions. Until Dahlia fucking Thorne.
She’s the addiction I can’t shake off.
Even during the hunt I only joined to forget her.
My right hand still grasping my gun, I squeeze Jude’s shoulder with the other. “Don’t spiral.”
“Fuck that.” He shakes my hand off and steps back, pointing his bloody stick at me. “What do I have to do for you to give me the entire list?”
“Not possible.”
“What if I kidnap your new little toy?”
“That would be both foolish and unproductive. You lay your hands on her and I’ll burn that list to the ground.”
He snarls.
I stare back.
Fuck.
I can’t believe I’m threatening my friends and throwing away my bargaining chips for that fucking woman.
She’s nothing.
Correction. She should be nothing.
“Preston is right.” He slaps me across the face with the bloodied stick. “You’ve fucking lost it for pussy. That girl would betray you to get what she wants. She’d abandon you and not look back.”
“I’m abandoning her first, but that doesn’t mean any of you gets to touch her.” I push his stick, sending it flying to the ground. “Where’s Armstrong?”
“Fuck if I know. He stabbed the sorry fuck a few times, not enough to kill him, but then he disappeared altogether.”
“Right before you found the target?”
“Yeah.”
Preston would never—and I mean never—miss a ‘death ceremony,’ as he likes to call it. That’s his favorite part of the hunt, whether he gets to kill the prey himself or watch Jude do it.
He loathes my swift killing methods and rarely lingers around for that, but he knew Jude would get this one and still disappeared.
Jude grabs his stick. “You think the uninvited guest is behind his disappearance?”
“You felt it, too?”
“Yeah. We have an outsider.”
We share a look, Jude’s frown mirroring mine.
An outsider. And Preston vanished. This is not good.
I motion north. “I’ll cover you.”
He runs and I sprint behind him, going down the paths we learned through our childhood training. We know this forest inside out.
Preston does, too.
I’m usually concerned about that lunatic as is, but this is even worse.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Thwack.
The sound grows stronger as we get closer. Jude and I come to a halt at a small opening with intertwined branches.
A large figure is on top of Preston, punching him to smithereens.
And Preston is laughing like a fucking maniac.
Upon sensing our presence, the man shoves Preston against a tree trunk and scurries off. I catch a glimpse of a solid-white mask as he pulls his hoodie over his head and runs.
I aim my gun at him, but Preston, who was happy with being beat to a pulp not two seconds ago, jumps up and stands in my way.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I bypass him, but the intruder has already disappeared through the trees.
“I’ll chase.” Jude starts in the direction he disappeared in.
Preston places a hand on his chest and pushes him. “He’s my prey. Back off.”
His mouth is bruised, blood gushing from the corners of his lips and trickling to his neck. His shirt is ripped at the collar, and there’s a knife slash on his arm, blood soaking his shirt and gluing it to his skin.
I raise a brow. “I haven’t seen you this injured in a long time. You sure he’s the prey?”
“Of course he is,” he says maniacally and laughs loud, throwing his head back.
“He’s lost his mind again.” Jude sighs.
“Who is he, Preston?”
He smiles, all his teeth showing creepily. “He dared to hunt me in my own goddamn place. Love that!”
“You should’ve let us catch him, dumbass.” Jude hits him upside the head.
Preston doesn’t even retaliate, still laughing, still lost in a high. “No, I’m going to hunt him, too, before I chop him into tiny little pieces. Oh my, I’m getting hard thinking about it. I’m so fucking hard.”
“Focus, man,” Jude says.
“You fuck off, both of you. I’ll arrange the cleanup and watch some security footage.”
“Find out how he managed to trespass on this place, Pres,” I say.
“Not important.” He laughs as he walks away. “Not fucking important.”