Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“So,” I say, twiddling my thumbs. “I won’t lie, the whole cannibalism thing is really gross. I don’t know what you were thinking when you signed up for these games. Surely you knew you would be a target based on principle.”
The guy groans, his face turning an odd shade of gray. “I’m not”—cough—“a cannibal.”
“No one else is here,” I say. “You can just admit it. So you have the taste for human thighs. Personally, I’m a fan of chicken breast, but I can get down with a good thigh.”
“Not . . . a cannibal,” he grits through his teeth, the blood beginning to seep closer to me on the concrete. “You know how this goes. That story . . . was planted by some tech asshole.” He stops to cough and blood spurts from his lungs. “Once you get a name, it sticks. I’ve never been able to escape it.”
“No shit, huh? You really don’t like to slurp on human sausages?”
“The fuck is wrong with you?”
All I can do is laugh as I lean back onto my palms and inch my legs to the right to avoid the growing puddle of blood. “Look, this is taking a really long time. Would you mind hurrying along the process? All I’ve eaten today is a breakfast burrito on the way here, and I could really go for a good steak and veg. Actually, scrap the veg. I want fries.”
He sputters, starting to drown in his own blood, and as I go to get to my feet, I realize the limb licker and I aren’t the only ones here. A figure stands at the opening of the warehouse, his tall, imposing body taking up the majority of the doorway as he simply watches me.
In the dark, I can’t make out a single feature of his face. He’s nothing but an imposing shadow, waiting for me to fuck up. My heart races with pure fear, which is how I know that this man is Reaper.
He stares back at me, those lethal eyes capable of the most wicked crimes.
This is it, just like last night. It’s just me and him. The ball is in his court, and I’m backed into a corner. I can try to run, but there’s nowhere I can go that he won’t find me. It’s best to surrender right here and now, save myself the agony of trying to run.
I catch my breath and hold it, incapable of anything else but staring right back.
The whole world fades around me. I haven’t even got a clue if the man at my feet is dead or alive, and I suddenly couldn’t give a flying shit. All that matters is Reaper. Only he doesn’t do a damn thing. He just stares at me.
This is a test. A warning.
Something tells me he’s not here for The Boston Maneater. He’s here for me. He’s trying to prove just how easily he can get to me, just how quickly he can find me. And damn it, the message is received loud and clear.
I’m out of my element. Out of my league.
My heart races like never before. If I’m going to try and survive this, I need to figure out a game plan. I need to get my head screwed on straight, and I need to find my zen. I don’t stand a chance while I’m panicking. He’ll end me with nothing more than a flick of his fingers, and I’ll go down like a sack of shit because I’m too busy fretting.
I need a clear mind.
I need a fucking plan, and right now, all I’ve got are the weapons strapped to my body.
My hand slowly reaches for the blade sheathed in my corset and just as my fingers curl around the custom-made hilt, preparing to defend myself when his brutal attack comes, everything stops.
The shadow disappears, fading into the night like a ghost, leaving me questioning if I imagined the whole thing. My heart doesn’t dare stop racing. There’s no way I could have imagined that. And for whatever reason, Reaper just allowed me to escape with my life.
He’s playing with me. Getting a kick out of the way I fear him, and there’s no denying just how easily he senses that fear. He feeds on it the same way that I do, and just like that, I have a full understanding of his game plan.
He’s going to wait me out. He’s going to let the rest of us battle it out as he stands back enjoying the show, watching as the rest of us crumble under his scrutiny, and just when we think we might have a fighting chance, he’ll end those of us left like the incompetent killers we are.
A chill sails down my spine, and I realize that no matter how hard I try, how much I fight, how much research and weapons I have to defend myself against this beast, I will never win. It’s not possible.