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    The Man Who Killed Me
    The Man Who Killed Me
    The Man Who Killed Me
    Ebook47 pages32 minutes

    The Man Who Killed Me

    By Lyn Brittan

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    About this ebook

    Born a slave in the antebellum South, Oney has spent the last century trying to make the world a better place. It isn’t easy and it’s a calling that often requires the killing of her own kind. That’s fine. She’ll do whatever it takes to keep the people around her safe. But when horrors from her past threaten to destroy her future, Oney is forced back to the once place she never wanted to see again. Home.

    Previously released as Home Is Where Death Is, this is a novelette of 9000 words.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGryy Brown Press
    Release dateJun 13, 2014
    ISBN9781498943116
    The Man Who Killed Me
    Author

    Lyn Brittan

    Lyn grew up wanting to live like her heroes, James Bond and Indiana Jones. She wasn't totally successful and never had to shoot her way out of a hotel bedroom. She's still coming to terms with it. Awards and woot-woots include: USA Today Bestseller, 2013 and 2014 Galaxy Award Winner.

    Read more from Lyn Brittan

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      Book preview

      The Man Who Killed Me - Lyn Brittan

      THE MAN WHO KILLED ME

      by

      Lyn Brittan

      Website | Mailing List

      Chapter One

      Oney fingered the clip strapped to her waistband. Three rounds left in the gun before she'd have to switch out magazines. Three. Exactly. Rule number one of vampire hunting:  always count your ammo.

      She ducked to avoid an unpleasantly close round of fire. New rule number one: pay attention.

      Who is it? Someone I know? The voice that called out to her was low, melodious and carried the weight of someone sure and confident of himself.

      She didn't respond.

      And why exactly would one vampire want to kill another? It ought to be us versus them, no? You’ve betrayed us. The Great Betrayer. That’s what people should call you.

      Even if she'd wanted to answer, Oney wouldn't have had time. A bullet whizzed by her, singeing the fabric on her shoulder, and she poured her full concentration into not getting hit by the next one.

      Female vampires are so rare. And yet—

      Another bullet. This one drawing blood from her thigh. She shifted weight to her left leg, biting back a grunt of pain.

      —yet I find myself wanting to kill one. The vampire, Leeson, drew in an overly loud lung full of unnecessary air. So sweet. A ripe famp. It's close to your time?

      It was. Every single vampire she'd killed in the past few years made reference to it. The breeding scent made the whole business of sneaking up on one's prey a mite difficult.

      Oney peered between the crates in the abandoned factory and caught the tail of a jacket waving on an air current. It flowed to the right.

      Her dark hands reached into the belt pack for the small, metallic ball she kept for emergencies. This qualified. She rolled her eyes, hunched her shoulders and tossed the explosive device toward Leeson’s still rambling voice.

      The blast knocked her against the far wall. Landing next to her were several crates, a few hundred pounds of debris and half of Leeson's face. Or, at least, a cheek and a hole where an eye should have been. The wasted flesh looked nothing like the handsome and oddly familiar photo in his profile.

      Oh well.

      One leg dragging, she slogged her way to the center of the explosion. It was too dangerous to go in for full confirmation of death. The fire department would be here in a couple of minutes. She had to get out.

      Oney held the lump of skin in front of her, fighting an insane urge to put it against her own face to look though Leeson's eyes, or eye, as it were. Instead, she stuffed the evidence of the completed job in her bag and hobbled away.

      ***

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