Welcome to today's stop on the This Savage Song teaser tour sharing the next delectable extract. I've been gripped by this novel and I can't wait to share my thoughts with you when you all get to read it! Check out the extract below, make sure you're checking out the rest of the stops and you can get your hands on the book Tuesday!!! .. and so DEFIANT
You will always be our little Katherine.
Kate’s hand closed around a crowbar. It took more force than a blade, but the length would act in her favor. She took it up by one end and dragged it casually off the table, letting it scrape, metal on metal, drawing out the moment
the way Harker would.
She took up a knife as well, then approached the monster.
Her fourth school, Pennington, had a zero tolerance policy when it came to fighting, but the others had paid off. Back at Fischer, she’d taken karate, then kendo at Leighton, fencing at Dalloway, kickboxing at Wild Prior. St. Agnes didn’t have anything like that, but they were big on quieting the mind, allowing room for God. Or in Kate’s case, for focus.
Kate twirled the crowbar. The basement went quiet.
“Lean in, pretty,” said the Malchai, “show me your throa—”
Kate thrust the hilt of the knife between the monster’s teeth and drove the crowbar up and under his ribs. There was a wet sound, and the grind of metal on bone, and then the Malchai shuddered horribly, wretched a mouthful of black blood onto her shirt, and slumped. Kate lowered him onto his back, and his red eyes gazed up at her, dull and dead. She drew the crowbar free with a slick scrape, then strode back to the table, and returned the weapons carefully to their places, leaving a trail of gore in her wake.
And then she met her father’s gaze. And smiled.
“Thank you,” she said. “I needed that.”
Her father raised a brow, and she thought she saw the barest flicker of respect before he gestured to the basement. “Want me to find you another one?”
Kate considered the hall, still crowded with silent, shocked faces, burning eyes, coiling shadows. “Thanks,” she said, wiping her hands. “But I have homework.” And with that she turned and strode out of the basement.
When the steel elevator doors closed, she caught sight of her reflection. She was still in her school uniform. Her face was dotted with blackish blood, her shirtfront and hands slick with it. She met her own cold, blue gaze and held it as the elevator rose up through Harker Hall, floor after floor until it reached the top.
Sloan was nowhere to be seen, and Kate wove silently through the empty loft to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Her hands were shaking as she tapped the radio on, and turned the volume up up up until the sound vibrated off the walls of the room, drowning everything.
And then, only then, safe beneath the sound, did Kate sink to the floor, gasping for air.