One Kiss: An Apocalyptic Urban Fantasy (Transmissions from The International Council for the Exploration of the Universe., #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

landing cold and wet on my cheeks.
    My biceps shook, the teeth getting closer. They were yellow and cracked. Part of the wolf's tongue was torn off, and it revolted me. My arms gave out and the wolf fell upon my shoulder, the broken teeth ripping through my coat and digging into my flesh. I screamed as much from fear as pain.
    An arrow pierced its eye and the thing collapsed, all of its weight lying on top of me. I struggled out from under the body, crying and hyperventilating as I got myself free. My father stood twenty feet away, swaying. His left arm was hanging loose in its socket. His forearm and hand looked like tattered clothing. Blood dripped off them, staining the white snow.
    In his right hand was his crossbow. Two wolves were running behind him. I pointed and he turned, almost falling. Quickly I had my bow in front of me and, tears almost blinding me, fired at the approaching beasts. I missed but my father's arrow found its mark.  The first wolf fell into the snow, still and dead.
    The second wolf leapt onto him, though. I ran up firing arrow after arrow into the creature's back, but it keep up its assault on my father's neck. Out of arrows, my father convulsing under the beast, I picked up a fallen branch. It was heavy and snow fell off as I raised the object. I swung it hard, putting all of my small weight behind the strike. It released my father and the branch splintered.
    The wolf turned on me. I looked at the sharp shard of wood in my hand. When it launched itself at me, I held up the stake and the wolf impaled itself on the broken branch, both of us falling to the ground, as the wood drove through the creature's throat, into its brain.
    Pinned under the wolf's weight, I realized that it was cold. Not only the body, but the blood oozing out of it. I pushed it off and crawled over to my father. He lay in the snow, his eyes fluttering, blood spattered on his face, caught in his beard, dappling his cheeks. I put my hands over the wound at his neck. His blood was warm.
    "Darling," Emmanuel said, holding another sugar packet out to me. They were the brown organic ones, and I could picture him slipping a few extra into his pocket when he got his coffee in the morning.
    I took the sugar packet from him and dabbed at my eyes where fresh tears were forming. I reached for the edge of the crypt. As I placed it there I felt that hunger again; the desire licked at my insides, building heat and anger. I had no questions, only requests. "Return her to me," I whispered. 
    Stepping back, I clasped my hands in front of me, lacing the fingers together, feeling the bones crush against each other as I squeezed. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Emmanuel didn't say anything; he just handed me a tissue, which I used to wipe at them. "Do you want to go?" he asked gently.
    I shook my head. "No, I want to stay for a minute. Go ahead. I'd like a moment alone."
    ****
    A s the sun set, voices of other visitors faded. I sat down on the ground, my back against the mausoleum across from Suki's, my legs out in front, ankles crossed a foot or so away from the offerings lining the base of the crypt. Street lights turned on as the sky darkened into a rich and brilliant blue. I thought about my father, about the final sounds he'd gurgled out, the way his eyes rolled back into his head. Megan's empty room. I couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. I didn't know for sure she was dead. Miracles happened.
    A group passed outside the cemetery, laughing. I pulled out my phone, swiping it awake; the screen glowed.
    "We call it the spark of life for a reason, you know," said a voice next to me. I turned quickly, my speed fueled by adrenaline, to see a woman standing in the cemetery lane. "Those screens will be the end of us," she continued as I scrambled to my feet, shoving my phone back into my purse. The woman wore a long white skirt and loose blouse with a wide lace collar. Her hair was wrapped in a white scarf dotted with red needlepoint stars.
    "Don't