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I killed a girl last
night. I did it with my bare hands and an old piece of pipe I found lying next
to the dumpster. But that’s not the part that got me. The part that scared me,
the part I can’t seem to wrap my head around and still has me reeling, was that
when she charged me, her body shifted – and then she was a wolf. All snapping
teeth and extended claws. But by the time I stood over her lifeless body, she
was a girl again. That’s about the time I went into shock… And that was the
moment he showed up.
Now, all I can do is
accept the truths that are staring me in the face. One, Werewolves do exist.
And two, I was born to kill them.
Wood Point Academy is
not at all what I expected.
For one thing, it
looks like a cross between military school and Buckingham Palace. Everyone
stares, the floors shine so bright you can see your reflection in them from a
mile away, and no one smiles. Unless they're kicking your butt in the process.
At least I've got
plenty to take my mind off the fact that my psycho cousin, Miles De'Luca, keeps
calling and declaring his love and promising to come for me just as soon as
he's destroyed anyone standing in our way. Wes isn't going to like that idea.
So between Miles, Wood Point's evil welcoming committee, and the drill sergeant
hottie trainer from hell, I just keep asking myself, how did I end up here?
If I had to choose
one word to sum up all of my problems, this would be it.
Without hybrids, I
wouldn’t have to watch my best friend slowly becoming a monster. Without
hybrids, I could let go of the mentality “hunt or be hunted.” CHAS wouldn’t be
scouring the Earth, intent on slaughtering and using Alex to do it. Without
hybrids, I wouldn’t have to be on guard that losing my temper meant losing my
shape. There would be no monster inside me, struggling to get out.
Then again, without
hybrids, I wouldn’t have Wesley St. John.
That’s how many
hybrids survived the Hunter attack in the woods after I revived them with an
injection of my blood. That’s how many followed me home to Frederick Falls. And
that’s how many were now mentally linked to me through a blood bond.
Two days. Three
valium. Fourteen hours of sleep.
That’s what it took
to realize I wasn’t losing my mind as a result of the noise in my own head.
That’s how many days
have passed since I almost killed Alex. That’s how many days I’ve sat by his
bedside, waiting for him to wake up. To ease the guilt, to understand his
betrayal, to remember the exact shade of brown in his eyes.
That’s my chances of
skating by with Gordon Steppe and the Hunter Council. They want me for
questioning. I’m afraid what’ll happen if I give them answers.
“Heather Hildenbrand is one of my favorite YA paranormal authors. Her Dirty Blood series is a must-read!” -Ella James, author of the Stained series
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Author of Across the
Galaxy, Whisper, and the Dirty Blood series. I write, read, and fuss at my
kids. Oh, and I do laundry, lots of laundry. I'm pretty good at it, too.
Sometimes I even read WHILE doing laundry - and fussing at my kids. I'm a
multi-tasker.
For more information
on my books, release dates, or just general stalker material, um, I mean FAN
material, visit my website. www.heatherhildenbrand.blogspot.com. I love hearing
from readers!
Likes and dislikes? I
love vintage tees, hate socks with sandals, and if my house was on fire the one
thing I'd grab is my Amazon Fire TV! (oh yeah, I'm a fan of puns.)
