Saturday, January 23, 2016

Hunted – 30



“So they decided you were worth keeping around after all,” the actor who played the lead vampire said with a sneer as Brice walked into the room. “How many women did you add to your stable while you were gone?”  

Brice was tempted to tell him to go fuck himself, but managed to hold his tongue and reply with a smile, “Probably more than you’ve had in your lifetime.”

Most of the other people around the table managed to find something interesting in their scripts to keep from laughing, although a couple of them had brief coughing spells before they did.

“Gentlemen, if you would, let’s get down to business,” the director said firmly.

The first read-through went as they always did, with additions, changes and the occasional complaint from one actor or another that they didn’t understand their motivation for a scene. Brice was heartily glad when it was over, even though he was happy to be back in the harness again. For a brief moment he thought about practicing his teleporting so that he could get home faster, but decided he might be chancing ending up in an ice cream shop, or somewhere worse.

As he walked through the parking garage to his car he frowned. Something was off but he couldn’t figure out what. He just knew something was tickling his senses. A smell, a sound… He looked around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t until he opened his car door that he knew what was wrong. The interior reeked of the smell of wolf, and it wasn’t Logan’s scent.

He backed away then spun around to look for whoever had left the scent. There was no one in sight. He steeled himself ans got into the car. Once the windows were all opened to let the scent dissipate, he started to put the key in the ignition. That’s when he saw a slip of paper, tightly rolled up, stuck in the key slot.

“What the hell,” he muttered, more angry than afraid at the moment. He unrolled it and his mood switched instantly to one of panic when he read the words scrawled on it—‘I promised I would find you, and kill you. What if you had turned the key?’

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