Faith Hunter

Snippet # 6 of Blood Cross

The young cop beside me pulled his weapon, but before he could raise it to fire, his partner put out a restraining hand and looked at me. He was human, about five-ten, late forties, a sergeant by his stripes. His partner looked young, still wet behind the ears. And the plainclothes guy, Ferguson, was mid-fifties. Experienced. Canny. He looked from Bethany to me and put things together as his eyes darkened.

“The victim. She’s a witch, isn’t she?” the detective said. I nodded and Ferguson’s mouth curled into a faint sneer. The scent of fear and hatred started to ooze from his pores. He was a closet witch hater. Maybe not so much closet. His voice dropped lower. “And you didn’t think it important to tell us all that? Wasting our time with witch shit?”

“Children aren’t shit,” I growled. He took a step back. The younger cop struggled with his partner to draw his gun, eyes switching from Bethany in the doorway, to the closer threat, me. I curled my hands into fists to keep from clawing out. “You telling me that you wouldn’t have issued an AMBER Alert for two kidnapped children if their mother was a witch? That you’d take a chance on waiting?”

“Witch politics,” Ferguson spat. “Their kids aren’t the concern of normal humans. And that?” He jutted his chin at Bethany still in the door. “They should all be staked.”

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Tags: Blood Cross, faith hunter, Jane Yellowrock, Skinwalker

This entry was posted by Faith on Monday, November 30th, 2009 at 6:47 pm and is filed under Series and Books. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

About The Author

Faith

A native of Louisiana, Faith spent her early years on the bayou and rivers, learning survival skills and the womanly arts. She liked horses, dogs, fishing and crabbing much better than girly skills. Still does. A love of history and ancient writings excite her even more, perhaps because she can trace her own family tree back to William the Conqueror's invasion of England in 1066, later to Sehoy III, an American Indian princess, and to the gens de couleur libre, the free men of color in New Orleans at the time of the War Between the States. As a girl, she fell in love with fantasy and sifi, reading five books a week, and wishing she, "could write that great stuff." Teachers in high school convinced her she could, and she's been writing ever since, with a desire to see ultimate good fight and defeat ultimate evil, and humans as part of the battle. Faith now shares her life with her Renaissance Man (Ren) and their dogs.