The Survivors: Book One

"Use the fire." The demon ordered it, but Angela couldn't. The intruder hadn't done anything (yet!), though she knew his lean, sinewy body was ready to react. She could feel it.

"Don't make me shoot you," she warned, hating her shaky tone. The flag-draped blanket fell unnoticed to the damp dirt as she stood.

"I'm hungry. Got any food?"

Obviously a lie, the words fell awkwardly, tone devoid of feeling. It gave her a chill of terror when he took a small step closer.

She raised the weapon, flipped off the safety. "Don't! I will shoot you!"

Energy, fear, and adrenaline raced through Angela, and her mind called for a defense other than her gun or new power. A door appeared in her mind, one that carried a feeling of death. She put a hand on the knob, but still hesitated, not wanting to take a life.

"What's your name? Pretty bitch?"

His simple, awful words made her understand that the smoke and mirrors she had used on Warren wouldn't deter this seasoned hunter. She opened the mental door, not looking at what had been chosen as she prepared to do battle for her life. Nothing would keep her from her son!

The Witch whispered again, telling secrets, and her eyes widened in fear. "Where's your brother?"

The Witch took great pleasure in the surprise that spread across his hairless face, and Angela darted a quick look at her Blazer while he was distracted. It was too far away, and that sucked because it was a Presidential model...

"How do you know that?" Dean growled menacingly at her, moving forward through the cool, moonless darkness.

Angela felt a great wave of heat, of force, jump from her chest to form a thin shield between them.

Visible only for a second, Dean noticed, dark eyes narrowing, feet stopping.

"Be gone, Killer. You have no welcome here!" She forked her hands at him, and the burned-out fire flared to life, the crackling flames seeming to reach for the surprised man.

The Mercenary took an unconscious step back, revealing the second brother, and the barrel of his gun.

"Drop it, bitch!" Dillan wasn't sure why his brother had hesitated. It had never happened before, and he couldn't think of anything that would cause it now. They feared nothing. "You shoot, you die slow."

The Witch waited no longer, surging forward, and Angela stepped through the thick mental door, white-hot energy oozing around her. "You accept without question?" the voices thundered in her head, and she nodded, closing her eyes. "I do."