CHAPTER 7The wind rushed in Abby’s ears.
The city streets were flying past.
Sharon’s eyes were still red.
Her nostrils flaring.
Her fangs dripping with blood—hunter blood. All because of Abby.
“Sharon!” she screamed, and as the name left her lips, they came to a halt.
They were in a dark alleyway, bins and boxes scattered in disarray. The stench of refuse would have made Abby recoil if Sharon hadn’t been licking her lips, eyes focused on Abby’s neck.
And Abby realised then that the hunters were right—this wasn’t her sister.
She took in a shuddering breath.
Sharon pushed Abby up against the wall and sank her fangs deeply and viciously into her neck.
A geyser of blood gush upwards. Abby’s blood.
Sharon swallowed and kept drinking.
Abby held her breath and wondered if this was it.
