Chapter 3

Cynthia took a few steps back. "She's got something in her hand."

John snorted dismissively, "What's a piece of scrap metal going to do? Is she going to kill me with that or something?"

He lunged at me, his thick arms pinning me down, most of his body crushing me against the edge. His fat, filthy hands grabbed for my chest.

A rank wind, heavy with the stink of mutant rats, rushed down from above.

Cynthia knocked over the metal bucket, and a swarm of giant rats came pouring out.

They bared their fangs and lunged for my face.

The cramped bathroom reeked of nauseating sweat, and the suffocating stench of rats hung heavy in the air.

Five men, completely naked, had me surrounded.

The giant rats' red eyes glinted in the dim light.

I gripped the sharp metal lid tightly, spitting out each word as a warning. "Take one more step, and I'll rip your guts out, feeding them to the dogs."

John, the leading guy, slammed his foot hard against the edge of the bathtub. "Who are you trying to scare? Cynthia already threw you to us like garbage. Who cares if you live or die?"

A giant rat landed on my shoulder, its teeth tearing right through my skin.

I didn't bother with the rat gnawing at me, my eyes fixed on John as he lunged in.

His face was twisted with filthy lust, drool dripping from his chin onto my collarbone. "Come on, let me give you a good time."

His hand hovered an inch from my chest.

As the swarm of rats came crashing down and his filthy hand was about to grab me, I snatched up the metal lid I'd ripped off and stabbed it hard right through John's hand.

The metal shard sliced through his tendons, and blood gushed out, splattering all over my face.

At that exact moment, a deafening thunderclap boomed over the estate.

With a thunderous crash, ten armored helicopters emblazoned with the black market's insignia smashed right through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Shards of glass rained down into the hall, and a howling wind whipped rainwater straight into the estate.

Leonard, standing outside, shouted in shock, "Who the hell is that?"

The deafening roar of the helicopter rotors drowned out everything else.

Black-clad mercenaries rappelled down from the helicopters.

Their heavy machine guns gleamed with a metallic sheen, and red laser sights crisscrossed the entire estate.

The bathroom door was kicked open, the entire solid wooden door slamming straight into John's back.

He screamed, clutching his hand as blood spurted from the wound, stumbling backward and landing right into a writhing pile of rats.

The rats, crazed by the scent of fresh blood, swarmed over his hand as he rolled on the floor, screaming in pain.

Pushing off the slick, wet floor, I sprang up, my long leg whipping through the air in a vicious arc.

With a brutal kick, I sent Cynthia flying, the metal bucket still clutched in her hands.

She slammed into the wall, the bucket clattering down over her head as the rest of the giant rats spilled straight into her clothes.

Cynthia shrieked, clawing desperately at her body as she thrashed on the floor.

I snatched a towel and wrapped it around myself, my bare feet sinking into the blood and dirty water spreading beneath me as I stepped out of the bathroom.

Outside, Leonard rushed back after the thunderous crash, only to see dozens of mercenaries dressed in black, fully armed.

They poured into the estate, heavy machine guns ready.

Leonard's blood froze, his voice stuttering as he pointed at the guy in charge. "You're the Nocturne Legion from the black market?

"This is werewolf territory. Who gave you the guts to break in here?"

The mercenary captain gave a cold chuckle and marched forward.

A silver bullet slammed into Leonard's kneecap, shattering it.

There was a sharp crack. Leonard howled in agony and collapsed to his knees.

The mercenary captain dropped to one knee in front of me and shouted, "Hail the lord of the black market. The truckload of giant rats is ready. Your orders, my lord."

Cynthia, sprawled in the bathroom, spat out a mouthful of blood, grabbing her hair, shaking her head frantically, and screaming. "No way. How could you possibly be the lord of the black market?"

I snatched the pistol from the mercenary captain, pressed the barrel to Leonard's forehead, drenched in cold sweat, and curled my finger around the trigger guard. "I'm not only the lord of the black market.

"I'm also the one who's about to send you all to hell, right now."

Big beads of sweat rolled down Leonard's forehead as he knelt, frozen, at my feet.