Blood gushed over my hand and I snapped at his neck, desperately wanting to kill him.
Xander tossed me off Bolton. “Not yet,” he said.
I sighed; I knew he was right. He could still help us find her. “We have to find her,” I told Xander, hating the desperation in my voice.
We searched around the camp, but I had a feeling she didn’t stay long here. We all got in the car and headed to the small town just five minutes away from here.
Bolton was quiet the whole time while healing slowly. He lost a lot of blood, but not enough to die. Why didn’t she leave this place earlier? Doesn’t she know how strong she is? Who she descends from?
They had to have kept her weak all these years. I only met her once when I was around twelve years old. She was just six; I think she would remember.
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