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Already she was growing cold as her body went into shock.
    11

    The Supplicant
    by Michelle Marquis
    The blond man crawled into the wreck, pushing twisted steel out of his way like it was so much tissue paper. Sin was so astonished by his strength she thought she must be hallucinating. The man grabbed a handful of her uniform tunic and heaved her out of the wreck. Sin lay as still as death on the cold asphalt. Her body screamed in pain, and she vomited a little blood. It's too late, too late. I'm going to die. I can't feel my arms or legs.
    The man placed his arm around her waist and pulled her to her feet like a broken doll. Unable to stand under her own power, the man held her up and squeezed Sin against his chest. The sirens grew louder now, filling her head with their shrill din. Sin's lips moved, but no words came out. Her savior ran his tongue along her lower lip, licking the blood from her mouth. Then a new agony came, exploding from her throat, and Sin was sure this stranger had stabbed her in the neck in a strange act of mercy killing.
    Sin wanted to be angry, but she wasn't. Instead, she was relived. So this is what it feels like to die. Like most stuff in this fucked-up world—so overrated. Heat flooded her body, ushering in a comforting calm. Then Officer Sin Miller let her mind go and rolled over into the sweet nothingness of death.
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    12

    The Supplicant
    by Michelle Marquis

Chapter Three
    It was dusk, and the cemetery was empty.
    The grass was still damp from the day's rain. Leftover rainfall had collected in tiny puddles around the worn areas by a few of the graves. Melancholy headstones stood vigil over the empty yard, a mute testimony that the people beneath them had ever existed at all. In the distance was a new grave sheltered by a dark green canopy. The aluminum canopy was placed there earlier to keep the rain off those attending the funeral. Resting on top of the damp earth were several bouquets of white and blue flowers.
    Krysis grabbed a canvas duffel bag from one of his companions and tossed it over the fence. It hit the ground with a muffled thud and a clang of metal. Then he scaled the ten-foot-tall wrought-iron fence with as much ease as a cat does climbing a thick oak tree. He jumped to the bottom and glared ahead, his bloodlust quickening like a fever under his skin. His three companions, Blackjack, Razor, and Kat, followed him over and gave him a curious look. If anyone wanted to question him, no one would dare. Krysis was well known for being dangerously unpredictable, a reputation he earned and cultivated with care.
    That newest grave was the one he was looking for.
    His beloved might even be awake already.
    Krysis moved across the cemetery toward the new gravesite with long, commanding strides. He didn't want his 13

    The Supplicant
    by Michelle Marquis
    new mate locked in her coffin too long. She'd be traumatized enough as it was from the accident.
    It had been a long time since he'd had a fresh supplicant, and he was looking forward to coaxing this one into the fold.
    If she agreed, she would be a good addition to their small group. He could tell, he could feel it, and he was never wrong.
    As he drew closer, their bond grew, and his hunger for her became more primal, more savage. He moved his tongue over his canine teeth and felt their long, curved menace, and immediately, he thought about the police woman's unique taste. Like ripe fruit on a hot summer day.
    Finally, he reached her grave.

    * * * *
Sin woke up in darkness. She expected to feel pain, but there was none, only confusion. The first thing she tried to do was move. She lifted her hands and touched something soft about ten inches from her face. It was padded fabric, and the truth of where she was exploded in her brain like a grenade.
    Oh my good God, I'm in a coffin! I've been buried alive!
    Now, fueled by new and building terror, she raked her hands down the front and sides of her enclosure. "Hello?"