Hello my pretties. Since I had a special feature last Friday, I didn't post my short story, so here is the next instalment, and for those of you who missed the first one, go HERE first to read that.
Now I sense him. The male scent is peculiar, not as sweet, but rather coppery and sweaty. Sensing this second intruder in my happy hunting grounds knocks me off my game, not to mention the delicious fantasy I was having was driven out of my head. My only thought now is to protect my kill—my potential kill, that is. I didn't care who, or what this guy was, but I was sure he was up to no good. No matter if he was a rapist or the tax collector, she was mine.Stealthily I move forward with the ease of a tiger in the wilds. Now I see him. He's making his way through the cemetery. The bastard is actually walking over burial plots and that just ain't right. Even I don't walk over the graves of the departed.
Something whizzes past my ear and makes me duck behind a granite headstone as though I were vulnerable to bullets. The projectile traveled so fast that even my keen sight hadn't picked it up. But I hear it smack into a marble statue, somewhere behind me, pieces splinter and fall to the ground like chips of ice on spongecake. At the same moment I smell gun powder telling me I was right about what I'd thought it was, even though the gun never went pop. The lunatic was actually using a silencer!
The blond woman broke into a run, and it was only then that I noticed she carries a briefcase.
I curse under my breath. Everything happens in milliseconds. The man moves in my direction. I smile and wait patiently, hidden behind the tombstone. I hear his big swishing steps, he sounds like an ox he's so flat-footed. I wait until he's right on top of me before I make my move. I jump up, throw a punch. He never sees what hits him. He goes down, belly up like a dead fish, but he's still conscious. I fall on him, straddle him to hold him down because he comes to. He's pretty damned smart too, and now I'm looking at the business end of his gun. If I were human I'd be shitting my pants right now. But I'm not. I've got the upper hand. I grab the gun. It goes off with a dull thunk, thunk, thunk. The guy's stronger than he looks, but I get the gun out of his hand by crushing his fingers until he cries out in pain. I throw the gun as far as I can, hear it clatter somewhere down where Mildred Breakstone lies peacefully. I hit him again, this time harder, not caring that I break his nose and possibly a cheekbone, crease his left eye some. Now he looks more like he went up against Joe Frasier and lost. Finally he goes limp.
“Now you stupid shit, you're mine!” I growl and tear open his shirt, ripping his tie in the process. I open my mouth and even though I didn't order male tonight, I had to have something to hold me until I caught up with the gorgeous blond.
©2011 by Lorelei Bell