87|| Blood and stories

“I don't remember much of what happened that day,” Nathan continued his storytelling. Anna didn't mind it though, they had a lot of time to wait… for Leroy to show up.

Why did it feel as though she was leading him to his doom?

“He left me with nothing. Grandfather was the only one I had. My father died when I was very young and my mother, well she died at childbirth,” the nonchalance dripped from his voice as he mentioned them.

He was pouring himself a drink again. That was the fourth glass now.

Maybe his Werewolf genes went to his alcohol intake? Well what do you know?

“My Grandfather had another boy whom he looked after. We weren't related. He was dark skinned, had this… long dreads for hair, very brilliant kid- what's his name again,” he drummed his fingers on his chin where he was seated on his desk.

Jamal?

“Jamal, I think,” he confirmed her thoughts. “I wonder if he's dead now.”

She glanced at him before she threw her face away. It wasn't her place to tell him anything. But… “Wer