Of Blood and Downfall

Chapter 6.

Mavis's POV:

    I don't know if I just witnessed a murder.

"Shit," I snap to myself, afraid to move for a second. With my ears perked to the slightest detail of noise, I try to hear if they're near, but they aren't.

In a panic, I zip the bag and rest the strap on my shoulder. Slowly wattling past the short bushes, I push myself up when I reach a tall bush. Gasping, I holt to a stop when a tall figure is standing right in front of me.

Before I can be exposed from hiding behind the bush, he reaches forward and grabs the strap of the bag. Tugging back with my own grip, I begin to shake with nausea. With only his hard stare, it makes every atom in my body freeze. The only thing between us is his hold on the bag.

His eyes are hazel when they flick towards the mansion where the patio lights are panning out towards the estate. Flecks of green lingering in the middle but when he looks at me—they're honey brown.

Giving me a daring look that leaves a shiver down my spine, he slides the strap off my arm, and I let him take the bag. Dropping it out of his grasp, I watch it thud to the ground. His sharp gaze is lingering on my face while I stare straight at his chest. Still shaking, various of thoughts are running in my head. I know I've been caught and I'm afraid he's going to kill me.

"A mouse fell into the cat's trap." He mutters, his voice almost breathless. He inhales deeply as though he's smelling the fear oozing out of my pores. I can't say anything or even think of a way out.

He is wearing a suit and in a dangerous setting—he is absolutely handsome. His facial features are very similar to the man I bumped into outside of the bar yesterday. But his hair is lighter brown, and his eyes aren't blue. There is a slight scruff that might have grown in the past two days but how can I count.

He is very tall, but I can't see if there's any muscles under the jacket. Only thing I notice is that his lips are pursed in a grin and his eyes are staring clearly into mine.

"It's okay, calm down." He tells me when I don't respond. It makes me feel even worse. My knees can buckle anytime soon.

"Please let me go." I usher out in fear, and it makes him smile even harder. His teeth are beautifully straight and white. It's almost like he isn't human. The female's teeth into the servant's neck plays in my head again and I gulp.

"You have something I want." He informs, pointing at the camera resting on my stomach. "Give it to me."

One thing Jenny told me about photography; you are going to bump into people who won't be happy with what you do. All you can do is bite harder.

I'm from New York and that's what New Yorkers know best.

"No," I snap, holding the camera by the strap around my neck. He doesn't say anything but watch me stand like a deer in headlights.

Abruptly, he moves so fast, I can't even react until he pulls the strap over my head and takes the camera. "Hey!" I snap and bring my arms out to grab the camera. He takes the chip out in one swift motion and stuffs it in his pocket.

Dropping the empty camera to the ground and grunting at my forced shoved. I watch it thud and hope the camera is still in good condition.

Glancing up at his a cold stare, he nods once, "Thank you."

"That's mine." I sneer with grinded teeth.

"Not anymore." He acknowledges, his hand playing with the chip in the pocket.

I urge out, "Give. It. To. Me."

He shrugs with his broad, stiff shoulders, "You trespassed private property."