“If you stay quiet, I might make this quick.” The man’s voice was eerily calm. My attacker still had my mouth covered, so I couldn’t respond. Then again, what would I even say?
Yes, sir, Mr. Murder, I’ll be quiet so you can get on with killing me?
I didn’t want to die! My mind raced just as fast as my heart, and adrenaline flooded my system. It was fight-or-flight time, and I leaned toward flight. But how would I get away from him?
To buy myself a little time, I nodded and forced out a muffled “Okay.”
The hand lifted away, and I took a much-needed breath. Slowly, I backed away to put distance between us and to get a look at my attacker. The man wasn’t tall, probably only a few inches taller than my five feet four inches. However, he was stocky, with arms like pythons. I bet he could strangle the life out of me without breaking a sweat. That visual had me taking another retreating step.
“I…I don’t have any money,” I said. A small part of me hoped this was a regular human mugging and not some supernatural drama. Uncle Sam’s accusation that I was only half-human, along with my aunt’s and mother’s letters, had me thinking crazy like them.
The man laughed, but the sound was devoid of humor. What made him twice as terrifying was the ghastly scar running from his left eyebrow, across his nose, and stopping at his right cheek. He looked like a true killer.
As he stepped closer, he scanned the room. Then his gaze zeroed in on me. “I don’t want money, half-wolf,” he said.