Chapter 11: The Hunt.

The glass of scotch shattered in the strong grips of Nicholas's hand, as his eyes blazed red with rage. Furiously, he snatched the bottle of scotch from the table before him and smashed it against one of his expensive paintings that decorated his walls.

“She's supposed to be dead!” His gravelly voice thundered, making Sheila, who had broken the information to him, flinch. Though she was used to his outbursts, Nicholas's anger was never to be underestimated.

“Believe me, she isn't.” Sheila countered certainly, her voice steady, despite the unease she was feeling.

“How?!” Nicholas bellowed, his brows furrowed in disbelief and anger, “how could she have survived?” his tone rose as the memory of the gruesome attack on her flashed in his mind.

“I'm not quite sure yet, but I think your bite turned her,” Sheila opined.

Nicholas raised his head and narrowed his eyes at Sheila. “That's impossible.”

“Same thing I thought,” replied Sheila.

Nicholas’s chest heaved with controlled anger, his brea