Home > Without Regret (Pyte/Sentinel #2)(4)

Without Regret (Pyte/Sentinel #2)(4)
Author: R.L. Mathewson

She made her way to the small park and found the bench for the meeting place five minutes later. She sat down and hugged her backpack to her chest, trying to catch her breath.

In no way was being in a rundown park at three in the morning a smart idea just because she was desperate to get rid of her program. It wasn’t over money, she was far from poor, but she couldn’t stomach destroying one of her babies or allowing the government to take it from her. It was pride. Stupid pride that was going to get her a slot on the ten o’clock news tomorrow night when they found her nude body in some embarrassing position tomorrow, well, really today.

“This is stupid,” she decided to say out loud just to add emphasis to something she already knew. She couldn’t let her program go to someone who needed to meet in places like this. What in the hell was she thinking? In the wrong hands her program could do so much damage.

This really was not one of her finer moments, she decided.

Groaning, she got to her feet. Well, she’d have to chop this up to a life lesson and figure something else out.

She started towards the street, hoping she’d spot a taxi that could take her safely back home. She was not looking forward to the return walk. She idly wondered if her farmer buddy had any luck with his kitty when several figures stepped out of the darkness in front of her.

“Miss. Smith, you weren’t leaving, were you?” a tall thin man with a slight accent she couldn’t quite place asked in an amused tone.

“Ah, no?” She forced her eyes to focus on anything other than the scar running down his face and the one across his throat. Something told her the man wouldn’t appreciate staring.

“That’s very good,” the man said, gesturing to one of the other men to take her bag from her. She resisted the urge to fight him, reminding herself that she really sucked at fighting. Seriously, it was sad. Her only move was a cross between a windmill motion and bitch slapping, which usually missed its mark and sent her stumbling.

The man took the bag and opened it. He tossed her candy bars to the ground and she almost bitch slapped him then and there. What kind of sick bastard came between a woman and her chocolate? Her copy of Lord of the Rings soon followed along with her iPod, bottle of water, and cell phone. When he pulled out her Netbook she nearly winced at the thought of that getting tossed into the pile. It wasn’t her main computer. It was just a cheap little computer that she used when she was out and wanted to play around with some code. Still, she loved it. It was small, cute, and had a picture of a baby groundhog standing on its hind legs eating a carrot set as her wallpaper. It was really cute.

He handed the computer off to one of his men. A moment later he pulled out three CD cases. “I presume this is what I’m after?”

Nope, but Isabella nodded slowly. She forced herself to remain cool. If they were going to kill her than at least she could die knowing they just screwed themselves over with no way to repair it. Ever.

“That’s it. Where’s my money?” she asked, trying to sound sufficiently afraid, no problem there.

The man smiled a truly ugly smile. Were those canines long and pointy? She gave herself a mental shake. Her mind was obviously messing with her in its panicked stricken state.

“Oh, I have something much better for you. You see your skills….well, they’re very useful to my employer.

He’d like to offer you a permanent place in our company,” he said the last word as if it amused him.

The other two men snickered.

Oh, that couldn’t be good……

“Um, thanks, but no thanks,” she said, backing up.

One of the men grabbed her and hauled her back against his chest. One arm went across her chest, keeping her arms pinned to her sides while his other hand gripped her chin and tilted her head back and to the side.

“Seriously, I don’t make a good employee….I’m always late, I take long breaks, I suck at office politics, my desk is always messy, I get cranky if I don’t have a constant flow of caffeine, I’ve even been fired from volunteering, twice. I mean seriously that should tell you something.

Who gets fired from volunteering? If you just let me go I’m sure we can work something out on a contractual basis,” she rambled on nervously.

“Shhh, you’re annoying me. Now shut up and let me do this. When you wake up everything will be fine,” he said as he leaned in.

Isabella’s eyes widened to the point that she was actually afraid her eyes might pop out of her head.

Either she was in a fear induced hallucination or those two teeth were fangs. She didn’t have much time to contemplate her situation before those very long and very sharp teeth were in her neck.

She screamed as sharp pain tore through her. Isabella tried to breakaway only to find herself in a death grip.

She immediately stopped fighting when the grip became more painful than the bite and stood there whimpering as the man drank her blood. There was no doubt in her mind that’s what he was doing.

He was making slurping sounds!

The man suddenly stumbled back from her. She felt two small drops of hot liquid run down her skin beneath her shirt. Ew! The man clutched his stomach, gasping.

“What’s wrong?” the man holding her asked.

He sucked in a hard breath and managed to say, “Sentinel.”

“Oh shit!” The man holding her shoved her away into the other man who shoved her right back. Great, they were playing keep away. Nice. Between that and blood loss she was seriously ready to puke.

“Kill her!” the man on the ground roared.

The two men stopped shoving her and pulled out guns.

Isabella squeaked as she covered her head and dropped onto the ground in the fetal position. From her position she watched in horror as the man who’d been drinking from her started to smoke. Seconds later he was on fire.

“Sentinels!” one of the men yelled.

“You bitch! You tricked us!” the other man yelled.

Isabella squeezed her eyes tightly shut as the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, gunshots, and blood curdling screams tore through the night. Something heavy landed on her legs, earning another frightened scream from her. A few seconds later it rolled off.

“Grab her!” a new voice said.

She gasped as she was hauled to her feet. A man with spiky blonde hair pressed a cross to her forehead. A freakin’ cross! He pulled her collar down and ran a finger over her bite marks.

“Hmmm,” the man said. Intense blue eyes met hers.

She squirmed under the rather unnerving observation.

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