The Survivors: Book One

Her Brady was all grown up and she hoped (feared) that what had once been between them would make him help her when anyone else would walk away. They had been true friends once, lovers…maybe even soul mates. She was counting on those feelings and his sense of honor, and yet worrying about how to protect her heart from all the need in his beautiful blue eyes. She would have to be careful not to even accidentally encourage or imply anything she had no intentions of restarting. The past was done. They couldn't go back.

2

By 2 a.m., storm clouds, thick and white, were rolling overhead, and Angela was ready to stop, too tired to worry about talking. She wiped at her blurry eyes as they turned onto yet another weed-dotted, gravel road and a street sign flashed by too fast in the darkness.

They went past small, empty-looking and feeling buildings she recognized as restrooms and showers. A campground of some kind she assumed, maybe even the back of the state forest she had been in. They were on a dirt path and his brake lights stayed lit as he came to a stop in front of a wide log house with a two car garage that boasted a single, dark, second floor window. A caretaker's home, maybe? Garbage littered the area, and the trees were more spaced out, spots still cleared for tents and campsites, but only oddly-colored weeds grew in those neatly rocked off circles. It was spooky and she jumped when the radio lit up.

"I need to check it out. Stay close, okay?"

"Yes." Angela shut off her engine, but didn't get out. She wanted to watch him, wanted to see if the Marine took over the man the way it did with Kenny, but she (and the Witch) also needed to know where her enemies were, and she closed her burning eyes, searching for the evil twins she'd stopped Marc from killing.

3

Dillan and Dean were acting as if they hadn't been bested, bloated egos unable to accept the fact that one woman and man had hurt them so badly, but inside they were humiliated, furious, and on the hunt. They were familiar with black magic, understood what possessing the Witch could do for them, but it was the humiliation that would keep them following.

They were tracking the couple with their lights out, blood-soaked pants and jackets sticking to the seats of their jeep, and the two identical Blazers were easy to see as their brake lights flashed like red beacons in the darkness. Without speaking about it, the brothers both accepted now that this woman was different and required a more aggressive approach.