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makeshift jail, Eric bent to pick something up off the
ground. It was a fallen tree branch, and as she gasped he
snapped it across his knee. Eric held one splintered half up
to the light, and she knew exactly what it was: a stake.
Rebekah felt a sudden chill, and she hurried into the
warmth of her tent. What would Eric want with a stake?
Stakes were for killing vampires. . . . Had Eric been hiding
what his true purpose was? He suddenly seemed like less
of an eccentric scholar and more like a vampire hunter in
training.
It was hours before she heard enough of a disturbance
to peer outside. Four soldiers were carrying the werewolf’s
lifeless body toward the edge of the camp. Even from a
distance, with night having fully fallen across the bayou,
she was sure she could see the broken tree branch still
protruding from the left side of his chest.