Mark

As we walk through the dark and dirty streets of a small town in England, I wonder how come it's possible that after knowing her for all these years, I don't know what she might be feeling right now. It seems, on the surface, that Amelia's death hasn't affected her in the least.

Yet... Amelia is—was the one who found Tahlia after her parents were murdered, the one who looked after her for five years. She must have meant a lot to Tahlia. Amelia taught her how to fight, survive, how to be the best, because “good” doesn't cut it in our circumstances.

“Focus, Mark, your mind appears to be wandering.” Tahlia doesn't even turn her head to say this, she keeps her eyes straight ahead, listening and smelling for clues to where Rodrigo could be.

In the past two years, I've gotten used to taking orders from someone eight years younger than me, especially since she was a better leader than any of us. Not that she requested the role of leader, it just... became hers.

“Merde!” Tahlia swears, in French.

“What's wrong?” Lily asks.

“First of all, Mark's mind is still wandering and second of all the smell simply stops. Ends. Nothing. It is absolutely blank. No footprints.”

“Maybe he stopped walking and starting climbing buildings,” Liam suggests.

Tahlia doesn't say anything, simply launches herself off the ground and practically flies over ours heads. Instinct kicks in when I hear a punch and I follow her, ready to fight. Lily and Liam are slower to react, not having had as much field experience as us. As it was to be expected, it's Rodrigo, with what feels like an army. “Does this guy never run out of allies,” I mutter.

Tahlia has already assigned herself the task of eliminating Rodrigo once and for all, which leaves his “friends” to the three of us. No time to count how many there are, just fighting.

The first one to fight me is a werelion. I bare my teeth. I'm bigger than him. He lunges for me and I move to the left then, before he hits the ground, run to the right. I slam him into the wall and his claws dig deeply into my leg. I groan and let him fall. Before he can go anyway, I hold him down, my foot on his back. He roars in anger.

I let him up, only because it's more fun if he can fight back. He swings a punch at me, hitting me in the stomach. I gasp. He let his claws pierce my skin. He gets closer, claws twisting in me. I swallow and place my hands on his shoulders. He looks at me with an air of questioning. I don't let him question my fighting methods long. Putting as much strength as I can, I shove. His claws finally release me and he hits the concrete.

Time to end it.

I snap his neck.

I hear the wail of a female werefelid. Ah, shit. I've probably killed her beloved. I spin around and sure enough a female werelioness comes running at me. Losing blood and in pain, I don't have enough time to react. She runs her claws down my face, brings her knee up between my legs, then takes a step back. I double over in pain and almost fall, barely catching myself in time.