Jeremy lay sprawled on the marble floor, his jaw bent at a sickening angle, teeth scattered like bits of broken glass. Blood pooled slowly beneath his head. The others looked at him with some measure of pity, disgust, or relief. Melanie did not look at him at all.
Why should she? He was nothing. A nuisance at best, a pest at worst. His blood did not stir her, nor did his ruined face. The only thing of interest to her in this room, the only thing that mattered, sat across from her with his fists still slowly flexing, his knuckles mending as flesh knitted itself back together.
Adam.
Her half-brother. Almost half her age. Words that should have made her skin crawl with revulsion only deepened her hunger. The sight of him standing over Jeremy, brutal and merciless, had made her pulse thrum with a fever she could barely contain.
