"That's Evelyn, but she prefers Eve." Dale spoke from behind us. "She doesn't say much. Maybe you'll get to hear her voice someday."
Evelyn Rider's light step and silent disposition have served her well during these dangerous times, but the dead are...
Due to some site errors (likely because of higher web-traffic than usual. Thanks Corona -_-) I wasn't able to check the majority of my notifications this week and haven't been able to reply to more than a handful comments but I did read as many as it would let me, so I apologize if there were any questions or if anyone wanted a response to their comment and I wasn't able to. All I can say is, y'all are funny as Hell and clever little marshmallows. Keep it up 👍👊
I had a rough day, sorry in advance.
Enjoy!
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He grabbed her jaw furiously. His grip so tight it feels like he's trying to crush her bones with his bare hands but it isn't enough, not nearly enough. Her eyes were still defiant and not a sound other than the faintest grunt.
His eyes burned with fury and his hand clenched like a vice around her throat, squeezing so hard it was shaking.
He got so close to her face she could smell the faint of whiskey on his breath and feel it drying her eyes. It made her sick to her stomach, but not a lick of it showed.
He made threats but frankly, she's heard better. It wasn't until he threatened to do something to Maggie that she froze.
The temperature of the room dropped, and slowly her eyes grew cold. Cold until they were burning so hot that for a split second it actually felt as if his skin was burning. Burning like he was staring into the sun. It came out of nowhere, like taking a hike and all of a sudden coming eye to eye with a wolf.
Her glare wasn't threatening or daring or riled up like he expected.
The look made him falter. Without even making the conscious decision, he took a step back.
Blazing amber eyes bore holes through his skull, making it feel like there was something crawling around inside him, wriggling and itching and boiling his veins.
He could feel the sweat beginning to collect under his collar and it soon turned cold.
He isn't so proud as to ignore the hauntingly firm voice in the back of his mind that told him he shouldn't have done that — the voice even more disturbing as he could all too easily imagine it belonging to the person in front of him, without ever having heard it before.
He doesn't get the feeling that she doesn't think he'd actually go through with the threat, but she is far too calm for his liking.
She looked at him the way a snake looks at a mouse. Promising something beyond his capacity to decipher. All he knows for certain is that there's a steady gleam in those fires. Like she's seen this before.
Nobody who isn't familiar with the ugly side of the human race is that calm and threatening in her situation.
It's like staring into a mirror that reflects what it's seen and there's nothing but fire and screams. No fear, no hesitation, only the sound of deafening silence.
