Fifty-Three

Isobelle

“What do we have here?” a hunter spoke, pleased with his discovery.

I snatched in a shocked gasp, my eyes round with alarm. The metaphorical dollar signs were practically rolling in his eyes as if he had just hit the jackpot.

“Isobelle! No!” It was Grayson who yelled this time.

Sweat seeped from my pores, soaking into my clothing, and making it stick to my body. I expected to be yanked into the abyss of death at any moment, feeling the stab of a gun barrel against my head. Instead, the hunter slapped his palm against his throat as if he was swatting a mosquito away, then collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Lucky for me, my Ranger friend was a better shot than he was.

Austin Rayne! I could bloody kiss you!

Grayson punched his fist through a hunter’s rib cage and yanked out his heart. It pulsed twice before Grayson crushed it. Alex sent one rearing back with a sickening roundhouse kick, his muscles flexing and rolling with the fluid motion. Through my bleary eyes,