saturday at nine
#12
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     Both of Gabriel’s ears perked up and swiveled forward, as if this question was somehow unexpected and remarkable. There was a moment of hesitation, curious as to whether or not the woman had explained that herself before. Once more his remarkable paranoia clamored, whispering doubt in his ears. It had kept him alive this long, but it had, perhaps, driven him mad.
     Incredibly, and certainly not because he wanted to, Gabriel smiled. “She’s had it out for my family for years. My father raped her sister.” Useless information. “A few years ago one of her former mates attacked my wife. I killed him. She’s made a point to harass our clan despite being warned to stay away, just like that hothead son of hers.” A shrug, a small change in his eyes. Gabriel was watching and studying his companion’s reactions as steadfast as a hunting cat or serpent. “Though from what you’ve told me about her state, I doubt that’ll be a problem in the future.”
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