Thirty miles south of the farm a dark shape soared above the three trucks moving down the highway. Even from this distance, the hellhound could smell the faint taint of blood. Her mouth watered even as her gaze narrowed on the last truck. She swooped down, following the line of vehicles. The thought that she should wait flashed through her mind before she pushed it away.
No, she thought as she glided in to land on the fabric roof of the last vehicle. I will feast right under their noses.
With a quick slice of her front claw, she folded her wings and slipped into the dim interior. On a thick mattress lay a male. A hint of disappointment ran through her. It was not the male she wanted. Still, the smell of fresh blood was thick and made her stomach rumble with hunger.
Creeping forward, she
