Who's ready for SNIPPET 01 of Nomad Avenged?!?!?

 

Terry winced in pain and gasped for air. His nanocytes fought to keep up with the damage done. They were losing the battle.

     The chains cut into his wrists; blood dripped slowly down his arms. One shoulder was dislocated. He’d hung there too long, feet barely touching the ground, unable to support himself when he passed out.

     The Forsaken looked at his prisoner, pleased that the feeding marks still shown waxy red, but that didn’t outweigh his anger. He was furious that Terry’s nanocytes had killed one of his minions.

     The bite that killed.

     Kirkus considered himself a genius for not attempting the first feeding on the enhanced Terry Henry Walton. That he made a minion do it.

     The Forsaken had yet to ask Terry any questions. He didn’t need to. The chained anguish had broken the discipline of Terry Henry Walton’s mind. The Vampire visited again and again, explored all that the human thought about, his enhancements at Bethany Anne’s hand, his work with Akio, especially his work with Akio.

     He’d seen TH’s moral compass and it made his Forsaken hair stand on end. Kirkus had never met an individual like Terry Henry Walton. A pure soul, some may call him. A person who knew Forsaken and didn’t hate them. He considered them people who deserved a chance to prove themselves.

     He saw the colonel joking with the one called Joseph. A Forsaken and the human, having a laugh. Kirkus made a fist and drove it into TH’s ribs. The man grunted as his head lolled on his sweaty chest.

     The colonel’s tongue felt like a dry rag stuffed in his mouth. The air didn’t come quickly enough and he stopped fighting it, letting himself slip into the darkness.

***

     Char’s eyes locked on Timmons. The purple flared and without warning, her fist lashed out, shattering his eye socket and sending him sprawling. She growled, more animal than human.

     “If you fucking limp dicks had done your job, Terry wouldn’t have been captured. HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU LET THAT HAPPEN?” she screamed, spittle flying from her mouth. The pack had failed her, had failed the entire community.

     She viciously kicked a withering body.

     “Look at this shit! He fought this fucking army by himself,” she snarled. Eight Forsaken lay dead, shredded by whip and knife. TH had not gone easily. No whining, no running. He had fought, toe-to-toe, but in the end, there had been too many. She studied the marks on the ground. At least four of them had carried Terry into their ship.

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