The morning sun beams through the slats in the shutters. I must have slept but not that well. Not after having spent the whole of Thursday in a state of high alert, anticipating the return of the henchman. I crept about all day, avoided windows, kept an ear out. Even after sunset, I listened.
I leave the comfort of the bed, straightening out the sheets and pillow. Downstairs, I assess my condition. The arm is a mess but there"s nothing more I can do about it. Noting a marked improvement in the inflammation around the dog bite, I sneak out to the patio for more drago blood and return to the kitchen to redress the wound.
On my way in, the boom of a king wave sends pulses of shock through me. Still on high alert, I can"t shake the fear that"s enshrouded me all week. Anything is better than
