She hated this man so much, growling as he pinned her against the wall with his chest nearly crushing her wings. Who did he think he was, storming in her cave andâŚandâŚdear Lord, was he kissing her neck? Celine could feel his heated lips on her sensitive skin and she saw red. Her heeled boot came smashing down onto his foot and she turned quickly, elbowing him in the gut with a murderous look.
"If that left a mark, I will skin you Wakefield.â
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Celine checked the few functional weapons that she had left- a loaded handgun she had picked off from the decaying carcass of a military officer, an old can of mace that she used to carry around in her purse before the virus struck, a rusty knife that once belonged to one of her close friends (before she turned), and a few canisters of tear gas. The last wasnât quite useful against the undead, who ambled about virtually unaffected by anything except a lethal blow to the head, but it worked wonders on large groups of people.
And where she was going, there would be an abundance of them.
Sansoria city had been divided up among several large gangs, who patrolled and scavenged for food for their pack of survivors. They each behaved differently based off of the beliefs of their leaders. Her old gang in the south followed strict regiments, and catered to the orders of her old ex-friend. The one to the west was filled with violent bandits and looters ruled over by an entire family, where allies were just as likely to turn on one another as they were to provide aid. Celine didnât know much about the group in the east- they kept to themselves and were rumoured to have two leaders, siblings of an exceptional level of cunning. The last and largest gang took up the bulk of the north, and was led by a man named Avery, who ruled his followers like a pack of wild dogs.
It was the last of these groups that Celine decided to target. With abundant supplies and weak borders, it was the perfect place for a quick and easy raid. That was how it was supposed to be, at least. It had been a cakewalk to slip past the guards, and she was able to find the warehouse easily enough. However, just as she placed the last can of food into her pack, she heard a low growl from behind her.
"What are you doing here?â
She froze in place, turning around slowly to look at the furious leader and his goons. âOh, hello Avery. You know, itâs rude to sneak up on people like that.â Celine smiled mildly, hiding the sudden lurch of panic which ran through her head. This wasnât good.
Avery trained his gun onto the thief, eyes steely and unyielding. âPut your pack down. Now.â
"Oh come now, is that really-"
âNow.â
Celine clenched her jaw, glaring daggers at the gang leader. Nonetheless, she knelt down, slowly lowering her pack to the floor. âThere, are you happy now?â Two of the guards he had brought with him stepped forward, taking hold of her arms and pulling her up roughly.Â
"You have an awful lot of nerve entering my territory like this." Avery lowered his weapon, but his annoyance was clear. "If Noah wasnât so interested in getting you back, Iâd have shot by now."
The woman chuckled, dark eyes glittering maliciously. âAre you sure you want to turn me over? Youâre going to regret not finishing me off when you had the chance.â
"I could just as well throw you to those things outside." He snapped back. "Keep up that attitude and I just might."
Celine shrugged, careful not to expose the weapons hidden within the folds of her jacket. Something told her that they would find use soon enough. âDonât say I didnât warn you.âÂ
Celine checked the sharpness of her sword, running her thumb along the edge with care. The first major battle of her war would not be impeded by a dull blade, not when there was so much on the line. After much debate between the Fallen and the vampires, it had been decided that the werewolves would be the first group that they would actively attack. Weeks had been dedicated to watching their patterns: where they tended to roam, how they hunted, but more importantly, who their leader was. Werewolves were pack animals- without their head, they wouldnât be nearly as much of a threat.
Avery Wakefield, therefore, was the werewolf to capture (or kill, perhaps, Celine was indifferent either way). He had been the leader for over a decade, and was the ideal target.
Everything was perfectly in place. After weeks of observing the werewolf pack from a distance, she had chosen to set up her ambush in a heavily-forested area near the borders of their territory. Her scouts had circled the perimeter of the area, ensuring that it was cleared out of anyone aside from her soldiers. She even managed to find a sizable bait, which snarled and paced about like a caged animal, straining against her hold on it. Admittedly, a wild wolf probably wouldnât have the same impact as having one of Averyâs pack members, but Celine hoped that it would sound and smell convincing enough. All she needed to do was lure him to her, and she would take care of the rest.
The sound of rustling wings alerted her to the presence of her troops. âThe areaâs clear, and the pack should be here in a few moments.â
Celine looked up from the blade, pressing her lips into a thin like. âAnd the pack leader? Is he with them?â At the affirmative nod of her scout, she brandished her blade and approached the trapped wolf. âExcellent. Weâre ready to begin.â With a sure hand, she made a deep gash into the beastâs side. The creature howled in pain, the scent of wolfâs blood wafting in the clearing. The Fallen wrinkled her nose, taking a step back as the mutt thrashed about in a blinded rage. The beast absolutely reeked within her proximity; she could only imagine how long it would take for another animal to sense it. If the awful stench didnât attract the pack, the infernal howling certainly would. It was disgusting, to kill an animal so slowly, but it certainly drew attention.
The Fallen leader turned to look at her scout. âStay around the perimeters and deal with the others. Iâm sure the pack leader wonât investigate alone.â She instructed, watching as several pairs of black-winged angels disappeared back into the trees on her command. Celine glided up onto a high branch to get a better view of her surroundings and the writing beast on the forest floor below her. She could feel the anticipation building up in her chest, sword hand twitching in excitement. Taking a quiet breath, she forced herself to keep still, watching and waiting for her prey to cross her path.
