DEATHWISH: Book 4, Chapter 1
Playing, they were just playing with us.
Blocking the rain, the gray light of the gate shimmered above me, hypnotic in the twist and turn of it. It slowed me for less than a second—I’d seen my share—but that second was long enough. The hand came through to wrap around my throat, black nails snagging in my shirt and my flesh. Play, but serious ass play. I didn’t wait for the muscular drag that would yank me into the light. I emptied my clip into it instead. As the bullets vanished, the hand jerked against my skin, spasmed tight enough to cut off my air, then went limp. When it did, the gate closed, leaving a pale arm severed at the elbow lying across my chest. Dark blood pooled on my stomach as the arm suddenly twitched, fingers opening and closing before slowly stilling—this time for good. Dr. Frankenstein couldn’t have done any better. “Shit.” I pried it off of my neck and threw it to one side with disgust and a lifetime of revulsion. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“So,” there was no whisper of drenched grass, no ghost of the faintest of footsteps, but suddenly Niko was looking down at me anyway, “other than that, how was your day?”
Also in This Series:
NIGHTLIFE: The CAL LEANDROS Novels, Book 1
MOONSHINE: The CAL LEANDROS Novels, Book 2
MADHOUSE: The CAL LEANDROS Novels, Book 3
ROADKILL: The CAL LEANDROS Novels, Book 5
BLACKOUT: The CAL LEANDROS Novels, Book 6
