There was something burning in the distance. Sinclair could see the tendrils of smoke curling towards the sky, the faint bursts of embers leaping in bright orange sparks. This was her shot at finding out exactly who she needed to target on the island. No one would suspect a thing. She was just an innocent human out for a run nearby. They wouldn’t see the array of knives strapped to her side beneath her jacket, or the gun that sat snug against the small of her back. 

She could try for a kill if the numbers were low, but a large group would be impossible to take on. The anticipation of a kill sent a kick of adrenaline rushing into her blood, a genuine smile reaching her lips as her heart set beating double time. This was it, her chance at revenge against the wicked creatures that crowded around the bonfires as the solstice approached. 

A jog slowed to a walk as Sinclair neared the bonfire, the crackling of fire now audible. Each step was precise, avoiding anything that could make a sound and give her away. That could be the end of her if she was found. So she clung to a wide tree nearby, concealed by shadow, before peering out to count the number of witches that circled the flames.