Night was starting to fall, but the streets were still busy. Festive carols floated out from cafés and bars, as well-heeled couples and groups of friends bustled about with bulging shopping bags, grabbing caffeine kicks and beers to help ease the Yuletide hassle. To pass the time as they walked, Kate told Sunday something of her lupine upbringing. Sunday listened in silence, wearing an expression that sat somewhere between shock and sympathy. When Kate finished Sunday still said nothing. Then she gave Kate’s fingers a squeeze, and the silence between them felt lighter. Finally, on a quiet street lined with cars, Kate spotted one that stood out from the rest – it was still carpeted with snow, clearly left unused for some time. Sunday produced an ignition key and pressed a button. The Chrysler’s hazard lights fluttered brightly as the doors unlocked. She gestured for Kate to get in on the passenger side. ‘There’s a scraper under the seat. Pass it to me?’ Kate did so. She sat shivering in the cold car while Sunday scraped viciously at the thin ice on the windshield.
What do You think about The Wereling 3: Resurrection?
