"So, what are you? A superwoman or something?"
Nah. Just undead and pissed off.
I give Pretty Boy a lazy smile. If only he knows. If only they all know battle raging within me right now. After all that shooting, all that blood and flesh, I'm battling the urge to sink my teeth into all of them.
If only they know that of all the monsters in this apocalypse, I am the worst.
However, "Nah. Just had a lot of training." I shrugged.
He lifts a brow. "Military?"
"Life."
Bea scoffs behind me. "More like a walking trauma response with a death wish."
She's not wrong, but I'm not giving her that point.
Leon gestures toward a dusty recliner, and I drop into it with a sigh that's somewhere between relief and existential despair.
My arms feel like jelly. My legs are vibrating with leftover adrenaline. My shoulder aches from swinging that bat earlier, and my ribs still twinge from where I got kicked. This means I'm getting weaker. Means I need to recharge. To feed.
