Sirias 3

Chapter 8

Written by: Rosemary Wakelin

Jager’s eyes were like slithery pools of black oil, thick, viscous and strangely hypnotic. Bret staggered back until he collided into a bench, quietly thanked it for keeping him upright. “Who the hell are you?”

“Someone who wants to help. Trust me.”

Bret wasn’t sure what smacked him first, disbelief or disgust, perhaps an insane combination of the two. He shook his head and laughed a short, dry laugh, one devoid of any humour. “Trust you? You, who stand...