KAIAH

As soon as my tail, Meg, left, I knew I had to leave again. Ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, leaving now would be more consistent than I’d like. I’d stayed in the past three towns before this for two-day periods, and I’d been in this one for two days. The key to running was inconsistency, but that smug mage had just taken that option away from me. I’d have to be the biggest idiot on Earth to stay another night here.

Call me what you will, I was no idiot.

I turned back to my motel, walking briskly, but not so hurried that I garnered unnecessary attention.

The thin line I was always walking, it seemed.

It would’ve been smarter to ditch my motel room and everything inside it. I needed to get the hell out of dodge, and I needed to do it now. But I was too damn sentimental. My father had always referred to it as my “human weakness”. I wasn’t all angel. Regardless, there were some things I couldn’t afford to leave behind.

When I finally made it back to the run-down, seedy motel I was staying in, I was in a state of full-blown paranoia. Every movement had me palming my many hidden daggers and weapons, simply for reassurance. As far as I was concerned, everyone was the enemy.

Honestly, it wasn’t that foreign a concept to me. That was how I’d lived the last few years of my life, after all. The happy, ignorant years with my mother were nothing more than a distant dream.

I unlocked the door to my room, slamming the flimsy wooden barrier shut and locking it as quickly as I could. Then, for good measure, I threw the bolt into place and secured the chain. Overkill? Definitely. But anything or anyone coming through that door would make enough of a commotion to alert me. So, overkill or not, it was necessary for my peace of mind.

Packing my meager belongings took very little time, though every passing moment felt like an eternity. I had few material things close to my heart; the photos of my mother, when she was shining and beautiful and healthy, an ancient tome of creatures my father had given me to research my immortal targets, and finally, my most prized possession; the jackal stuffed animal my mother had gotten me on our last visit to the zoo. She’d been so sick and skinny then, and I’d been so enraptured by the jackal exhibit. Mom had compared her prominent ribs to theirs, and we’d laughed. She’d kept her sense of humor until the very end.

Keeping it was childish. Honestly, it was downright idiotic. In a survival situation, stuffed toys should’ve been the last thing on my mind. And yet I’d sooner leave a limb behind than abandon him.

He was a he, after all. I’d named him Inua, which was a native word for the spirit, and my mother had been so proud. She’d loved that I’d taken such a deep interest in her, and my, culture. I’d always loved listening to her stories.

Inua was my dearest friend. My protector. His perky ears and tapered snout brought me joy in the darkest days of my life. I’d held him close at night. When I’d been too exhausted to keep watch, his yellow eyes did it for me.

I knew that jackals were regarded with fear by many, but I’d always been a starry-eyed child with a passion for the stories of the misunderstood. Scar had been my favorite character in The Lion King. In the movie Hercules, Hades had been the one I mooned after.

They were just like me.

Now, holding Inua to my chest, his familiar softness and scent calmed my building anxiety, slowing my racing heart. I could do this. I was good at running away. No one had caught me.

Yet.

I shivered at the ominous thought. Slinging the small backpack over my shoulders, I threw a few wadded bills on the bed for the maid and started toward the door.

There was a knock.

A normal person would have died if they were in my position. A normal person might’ve frozen. They might’ve answered the door, looking through the peephole to see if it was a friend first.

The difference was, I didn’t have any friends.

So, I did none of these things.

I darted to the window, opening it easily and punching out the screen. I was on the second floor, and though the height wasn’t dizzying, it still made me pause.

The door slammed open with a shriek of rending metal.

I whirled just in time to see one of my brothers stalking towards me, murder in his blood-red eyes.

“Got you now, you little bit-”

His sentence cut off, incomplete, as one of my many throwing knives buried itself in his throat. Right on target, as always.

I didn’t wait for any other unexpected family members to come barreling through. I was in no mood for a reunion. And there would be others. They never worked alone. Unlike me, they were pack animals. Like rabid, slavering wolves, they hunted together, sharing in the spoils.

I vaulted from the window, rolling to take the pressure of the fall from my joints. Then, I ran.

Luckily, I hadn’t been stupid enough to park my ride in the front parking lot. There were too many eyes there, and heading out the front door wasn’t what I would call a reliable escape plan. So, I’d stashed my bike in the woods behind the motel, like a smart assassin. I just had to follow the trail.

It wasn’t as low-key as I would’ve liked. The path was dirt, yet hard-packed from years of feet, and plenty obvious. No one wanted to hide it, after all. It was winding and covered well by trees and shrubbery, but the path was wide and well-known.

I felt terribly exposed as I made my way down the path, as discreetly as I could manage. I hugged the edge of the path, clutching the dagger I had nestled inside my black fleece coat. My heart was in my throat, and I felt sure that anyone within five feet of me could have heard it. My breath wanted to come in rapid gasps, and only my training kept instinct on such a tight reign. I couldn’t afford to

And then, the silence was broken.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” A rumbly male voice, deep and resonant, reached my ears, sending my already racing heart into overdrive. With terror, of course. Naturally.

I barely took the time to process what the stranger had said before I whipped a blade through the air in the voice’s general direction.

I barely allowed myself to catch a glimpse of gray skin and red eyes before I bolted.