CHAPTER THREE
The
reaper—Santo now, he reminded
himself, while he remained in this world, his name was Santo Castillo—raced to
the vehicle he’d taken from the human’s garage with a feeling of panic as alien
as it was unwanted. From inside the bar came sounds of chaos and carnage that
assaulted his new senses. He tried to reconcile the riotous impressions into
some kind of order. But he couldn’t. What had just happened in there?
One of the
creatures who’d spilled through the back door chased him out to the street but
stopped short of crossing.
He looked over his
shoulder as he ran with Roxanne’s soft, defenseless body clutched tight to his
chest and caught a flash of burning white eyes and long, curved canines.
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