Free Dead Shifter Walking by Kim Schubert Page A

be?
Normal? Could I have a steady uneventful job with no threat on my
life and coworkers who were not mortally terrified of me?
    I laughed to myself. Nope, couldn’t do it. I
liked the excitement, the thrill of the chase, and the taking of
lives. Something in my makeup was critically wrong; I understood
that. But I had used it constructively, protecting those I
loved.
    My phone rang, and I dug into my cross-body
purse for it, while trying my best to also pay attention to the
road. It was a number I didn’t recognize, but I answered,
“What?”
    “You have been dodging us, Olivia,” said a voice
I didn’t instantly recognize.
    “You are unequivocally going to have to be more
specific than that,” I answered blandly.
    The voice sighed. “You know, the manipulation of
emotions to give blood freely at the Supernatural Council meeting,”
said Tate as I now recognized the voice.
    “Oh yeah, about that, I’ve been slightly
preoccupied,” I answered, completely missing the black SUV that
rammed my driver’s side, effectively ending the call with Tate. The
door crumpled into my body with my ribs taking the hit. Pain laced
through my left leg, and I knew when I looked, it would have a huge
bloody gash. Fuck. The intensity of first blood boiled beneath the
surface as the precious essence gushed out of my body.
    Before the SUV had finished pushing my car, I
redirected by blood lust into action, reaching for my gun and
throwing myself into the backseat. My breathing was labored as my
ribs screamed at the effort. Reaching deep for reserves of
strength, I pulled the strap of my cross body purse out of the
passenger seat and around my head. I slipped onto my stomach,
wincing as my ribs yelled at me yet again, and was soon out the
backseat passenger door and under my demolished car before my
attackers got out to look for me.
    I belly crawled, each and every movement driving
sheer blinding pain to my nerves from my ribs. I silently screamed
at myself not to whimper, not to make a sound. Finding an empty car
would only grant me a few minutes’ reprieve. At least it did when I
had been tricked by the move. No one expected a person just rammed
to possess enough mental stamina to block the pain and be able to
move. Thanks to Selena, I could function just fine.
    Finally, at the driver’s side underneath the
SUV, I stopped a moment to listen as the shooting pain in my left
side caused me to pant in short, shallow breaths.
    “Where the fuck did she go?” I heard along with
the searching of the car.
    Perfect. The SUV’s driver’s door was still open
and running. I exhaled another painful breath, climbing in as
quietly as possible, leveling my gun at Steven in the passenger
seat. Well, I really should have seen this one coming as first
blood pounded in my temples, dimming my vision temporarily. My
control was tested and maintained, as I didn’t shoot him on
sight.
    Instinctively, he held his hands up. Mother
fucker! I yelled at myself; should have killed him earlier.
Throwing the SUV into reverse, I squealed the tires, pulling a 180
and probably ruining the transmission as I shoved it forcefully
into drive. I kept the gun trained on Steven the entire time.
    “Don’t even dream of doing anything but sit
there and look idiotic,” I hissed between labored breaths. I really
wanted to shoot him; taking my eyes off him, I made a hard right
into traffic and screaming horns.
    “I don’t think so,” he said, using the momentary
slowing in the turn to jump from the moving vehicle. Fuck, I really
should have shot him first. Was I ever going to learn? Pushing my
head against the headrest, I drove dangerously to my hotel, parking
the SUV in the local river first.
    I was glad I didn’t have to obtain a new key
card from the front desk in my current condition, as I slammed the
door closed behind me. My cell was gone and I had no
transportation. I thought to myself as I cut my shirt off and
assessed the blackening bruises on my left side and