Blooded

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I hit the ropes hard, my body bouncing back into the ring like a shot. My face unfortunately landing right back into of the fist of the werewolf who was pounding the shit out of me. I wheeled backward, my neck catching the brunt of the impact, the force propelling me into the corner, right where the little stool would sit if I had one. I hit the post and collapsed in an unceremonious heap.

I was a mess, mangled and bloody. One of my eyes was swollen shut and at least two of my teeth were loose. Despite my poor showing thus far, I wasn’t even close to giving up this fight. “Is that all you got?” I taunted, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the mat. I braced my arms and slowly pushed myself up. “The busboy at Selma’s hits harder than you do.”

Mitch Jacobson sneered down at me, his teeth half exposed, his lips drawn in a tight, cruel line.

Even though he was in his human form, his irises sparked a deadly amber, like a pair of flickering candles lit from within.

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