Werewolves of Shade (Part One) (Beautiful Immortals Series Book 1) by Tim O'Rourke

Author:Tim O'Rourke [O'Rourke, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Ravenwoodgreys
Published: 2015-01-31T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“Where?” Flint frowned, following me across the room to the passageway. He lit our way with the lantern that he swung before him.

“A village called Shade,” I repeated myself.

“Where’s that?” he asked.

“I don’t know that yet,” I said, knowing that I sounded stupid.

“You don’t seem to know much,” he said, taking me by the arm as I stepped from the doorway and back into the street.

“Don’t patronise me,” I snapped, yanking my arm free. “I’m not that little girl you used to pull the pigtails of.”

“I know you’re not,” Flint said. Then reaching out and taking my hand again, but this time more gently, he added, “Look, I’m sorry, Mila. I never meant to hurt your feelings. It’s just that I worry about you.”

“You have no need to concern yourself,” I said, letting my hand slide free of his. “I can look after myself.”

“Really?” he said. He hooked his thumb in the direction of the disused shop. “It didn’t look like that back there.”

“He was a freaking serial killer, for crying-out-loud!” I snapped.

“And there’s a lot worse than that out in the big, wide world,” Flint said.

“See, there you go again,” I hissed.

“There I go again what?” he said, looking affronted.

“Treating me like I’m some dumb kid. Like this world is some big, bad place that is far too scary for little-old-Mila-Watson to explore.”

“I’m just watching out for you, that’s all,” Flint said.

“Yeah, that’s what my uncle said,” I sneered.

“He cares about you, that’s all,” Flint said. “I care for you.”

“Yeah, well perhaps I don’t want you to care for me,” I said. “Perhaps I don’t want my uncle to care.”

“You don’t mean that,” Flint said.

“How do you know what I mean?” I shouted, screwing my hands into fists at my side.

Flint looked surprised by my sudden outburst. “What’s happened, Mila? I thought we were friends – I thought we were more than friends. I saved you back there.”

“When are people like you and my uncle going to get it into your thick heads that I don’t need saving – that I don’t want you protecting me?”

“What do you need?” Flint asked, looking lost and confused.

“I need to get out of this town,” I said, turning on my heels and marching away.

“Hey!” Flint yelled, coming after me. Catching up, he gently took my arm. This time I didn’t pull away.

There was the sudden sound of running feet from ahead. I looked up to see several of the night-watchmen come running into the street, each of them carrying a lantern just like Flint. Their hoods were pulled up, making their faces unclear despite the glow of the lanterns.

“Did you catch him?” one of them panted, reaching us as we stood in the street and the driving rain. “Where is he? Is anyone hurt?”

“He’s back there in that shop,” Flint said to the night-watchmen who now gathered about us. “And no one got hurt apart from the killer,” Flint added, gently squeezing my hand. “I got here just in time.”

“Good job, Flint,” one of the night-watchmen said, coming forward and placing one hand on his shoulder.

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