Chapter 8: Dead walking
Three days had passed since the warehouse district, and Major Patricia Gwen sat alone in her apartment, the silence broken only by the distant hum of city life. She wore nothing but an oversized sleep shirt, the fabric stretched slightly over her full, braless chest, the hem brushing the tops of her toned thighs. Every slow breath hinted at the soft sway of her breasts beneath the thin cotton, nipples faintly visible in the dim light slipping through the half-closed blinds.
Her auburn hair fell in loose, unruly waves around her shoulders, the kind of mess that came from restless sleep and not caring enough to tame it. As she shifted on the couch, the shirt rose just enough to tease the curve of her firm backside—years of military drills and combat runs carved into the lean muscle of her body. Even without trying, even in exhaustion, Patricia exuded a quiet, raw allure—the kind of beauty sharpened by discipline, but softened in these private moments where she could finally breathe.
Her phone lay on the coffee table like an accusation.
She’d been staring at it for twenty minutes, her fingers trembling as they hovered over a contact entry that read simply: K with a heart emoji attached to it.
The number hadn’t changed in eighteen months. She’d never had the courage to delete it.
Finally, she pressed call.
The phone rang once before the automated message kicked in: "The number you have dialed is not available or has been disconnected."
She dropped the phone and let out a bitter chuckle. "Dead men don’t answer their phones, Patricia."
The past three days had been a careful dance of investigation and misdirection. She’d filed her official report, accepted the commendation for "exceptional tactical performance," and watched as the warehouse incident became another success story in the Shadowguard’s public relations machinery.
Privately, she’d been hunting.
Database searches for unusual supernatural activity. Cross-referencing missing persons reports with vampire nest locations. Following up on every lead that might explain what she’d witnessed.