Rose’s mind whirled. Fear speared her gut. She couldn’t imagine Trian harming her, much less kill her, but then again…How well did she know this vampire?
Old feelings started to trickle into her subconscious. Old feelings like when she had refused to trust any vampire. Feelings she had forced aside when Trian had been kind enough to take her in. She knew that in a weird way, he was trying to help. But who would stop him from killing her. There was no one around. What measures would he take to see that she never fell into Cragan’s hands again? Cragan couldn’t catch a dead girl.
Rose took a deep breath and eased her white-knuckle grip on her daggers. Fear wasn’t getting her anywhere. Trembling like a puppy wasn’t getting her anywhere either. Rolling her shoulders, Rose took the rigidity out of her stance. While she was still poised on the balls of her feet, she looked a little more nonchalant then she was in reality.
“Really, Trian. Stop being so dramatic.” she said, surprising herself with how much sarcasm coated her voice. Enough to mask the fright she knew was just beyond it.
She flipped the blade in her left hand -her throwing hand- to hold the blade between two fingers. She gripped the one in her right with a firm grip. Not as white-knuckle as before, just enough to keep it in her hand should she have to perform another dive and roll.
Slowly, stepping on the outsides of her feet and shifting her weight inward, Rose circled Trian. Preemptive strikes weren’t her strong points, she knew…might as well not play up her own weaknesses.
Old feelings started to trickle into her subconscious. Old feelings like when she had refused to trust any vampire. Feelings she had forced aside when Trian had been kind enough to take her in. She knew that in a weird way, he was trying to help. But who would stop him from killing her. There was no one around. What measures would he take to see that she never fell into Cragan’s hands again? Cragan couldn’t catch a dead girl.
Rose took a deep breath and eased her white-knuckle grip on her daggers. Fear wasn’t getting her anywhere. Trembling like a puppy wasn’t getting her anywhere either. Rolling her shoulders, Rose took the rigidity out of her stance. While she was still poised on the balls of her feet, she looked a little more nonchalant then she was in reality.
“Really, Trian. Stop being so dramatic.” she said, surprising herself with how much sarcasm coated her voice. Enough to mask the fright she knew was just beyond it.
She flipped the blade in her left hand -her throwing hand- to hold the blade between two fingers. She gripped the one in her right with a firm grip. Not as white-knuckle as before, just enough to keep it in her hand should she have to perform another dive and roll.
Slowly, stepping on the outsides of her feet and shifting her weight inward, Rose circled Trian. Preemptive strikes weren’t her strong points, she knew…might as well not play up her own weaknesses.
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