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Blood of Gato - Chapter 82: LXXXII
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Chapter 83: LXXXIII
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... , rotten air moved with purpose, thick and warm, carrying the pulse of something ancient. Every trunk was a spine, every branch a twisting limb. Beneath the creak of bark came wet sounds — slurping, whispering, hunger.
William stood in the heart of that nightmare, surrounded by a vortex of darkness and the shrieking dead. His breath came ragged and low, almost animal. Fangs glinted. His eyes — gold, slitted — belonged to a predator that had finally caught the scent of blood.
The ...
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