Deadlier Than The Male - editing exercise 9

I'm still not up to speed on my output. Last year kicked my arse good and proper. Getting my head around my old (productive) writing habits is taking longer than I hoped, but slow and steady is still making progress - right? That's what I'm telling myself!

I've just realised I missed out the pre-edit version yesterday. I've gone back and put it in place if you're interested.

These are the covers of my three Wolf Series novels

If you're following the story or how I go through the process of editing, here are the first few posts.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

The photos are all my own and some may be a little off-topic and random, so bear that in mind (and read the descriptions).

---

Cont...

The predator’s head jerked back in astonishment. She still did not run. He wore the countenance of every sane person’s nightmares and she stood asking questions! What the hell was wrong with her? The first explanation that came to mind was perhaps she didn’t believe her own eyes? He had never encountered such a reaction from a victim.

She continued her verbal onslaught. "Actually, werewolf is too honourable a term. I'd describe you more as a Rogue-Wolf, and unless I miss my mark, you’re a Throwback."

His mind reeled with the information she had to hand. His mouth opened and closed without a sensible word spoken, and she continued.

"You are bringing too much attention to the gates of our society. Your kills are conspicuous and excessive. You have to be stopped, for all our sakes."

Too late he realised that his victim, the woman he’d stalked, hunted and finally entrapped, was nothing of the sort.

Somehow the roles reversed. She sprang forward and he experienced the debilitating adrenalin dump. His mind flailed and his brain sent incoherent messages to his limbs that were misunderstood and remained half-finished. Hitting him low in the abdomen with her shoulder, she knocked him against the opposite wall with far more force than he had done with her moments before. Heaving him up on her left shoulder, sliding him up the wall, she twisted her body to bring her right hand around, to cup his neck at the bottom of his jaw. She pushed hard on his throat, holding his head up and almost immobile, lifting his weight from her shoulder, he hung from her hand like an executed criminal. As her fingers tightened on his windpipe, cutting off most of his air supply, he realised he must fight for his very life. His kicks and swings proved ineffectual at best. Each swing blocked, no kick landed because of her proximity. She deliberately kept her body close to his as an efficient defence mechanism. He forced his mind to calm down in order to listen to her.

She looked up at him and he strained to look down at her. "I have been tracking you for months, Jervais Marchand. Before you started your killing spree in this country, in fact. I have studied your case and I now know of all the crimes you committed in Europe. I know the judgement and sentence that was handed down to you. I also know what conditions were put in place regarding your acceptance of this sentence. You have broken every term of agreement.”
She paused and gave him time to realise the grim situation his murderous hobby had brought him to. “I have the authority to deal directly with you. You now have three choices.”

She ignored his attempts to claw her fingers from his throat as she held up her index finger close to his face, to indicate one choice. “With the evidence I have against you, combined with your previous record, I can ship you back to France to let your authorities deal with you - again.”

She shook her head in silent indication that she believed the choice was not possible and added her middle finger to the index finger to count his second choice. “I can take you directly to our authorities or…” her ring finger was added to the other two: “As an appointed Sentinel, I carry out the final option in the sentence you were handed - doing what you should have done if you had any courage or sense of honour - I can end it for you now, rather than you committing suicide, for I don’t think I can trust you to carry that out. Well? What do you want to do?"

He stopped his half-hearted struggling for the moment, both hands upon her wrist, but she still held him off the floor by the throat.

The partial metamorphosis back to his human face was far swifter than the theatrical change of earlier. In an instant, his human eyes held hers and pleaded for more mercy than he had ever shown to his victims.

She smiled at the irony.

"They'll kill me if you take me back!" He croaked past the pressure on his windpipe.

"Will they? They didn’t before. I’m not taking you back, that’s not an option I want to risk. I'd rather kill you now."

"What will your authorities do?" He ventured, hopeful of punishment lighter than the other alternatives.

"Oh, they'll kill you too, but I don't know how quickly. You’ve led them a merry dance and I think they’d experiment on you for a while, deal a little retribution for their trouble, first. At least if I do it, I’ll execute you humanely, make sure you don’t suffer."

He took a while to come to a conclusion, but then sighed, nodded once to her and dropped his hands from her wrist.
She lifted her hand, ready to make the killing blow when he spoke, almost too quiet to hear. She held off to listen to his last words.

---

Pre edit

Cont...

The predator was astounded - she still did not run! He was wearing the countenance of every sane person’s nightmares and she was questioning him! What the hell was wrong with her? Could it be that she didn’t believe her own eyes? He had never encountered a reaction such as this.

She continued in her verbal onslaught. "Actually, I'd describe you more as a Rogue-Wolf, and unless I miss my mark, you’re a Throwback."

Now he was the one thrown into disbelief and she continued.

"You are bringing too much attention to the gates of our society; your kills are conspicuous and excessive. You have to be stopped for all our sakes!"

Too late he realised that his new 'victim' was nothing of the sort and roles had been reversed. Now it was he that got the adrenalin dump as she sprang forward. Hitting him low in the abdomen with her shoulder, she knocked him against the opposite wall with far more force than he had done with her moments before. Heaving him up on her left shoulder sliding him up the wall, she twisted and her right hand came around to catch him under his chin. Then she pushed hard on his throat, holding his head up and almost immobile, taking his weight from her shoulder. As her fingers tightened on his windpipe, cutting off most of his air supply, he soon realised that he was fighting for his very life. His kicks and swings were ineffectual at best, each swing blocked, no kick ever landing because of how close her body was to his. He was forced to calm down and listen to her.

"I have been tracking you for months Jervais Marchand, even before you started your killing spree in this country in fact. I have studied your case and I now know of all the crimes you committed in Europe. I know the judgement and sentence that was handed down to you. I also know what conditions were put upon your acceptance of this sentence. You have broken the terms of agreement.”

She paused, giving him time to realise the grim situation his murderous hobby had brought him to. “I have the authority to deal directly with you. You now have three choices.”

She ignored his attempts to remove her fingers from his throat as she held up her index finger close to his face, to indicate one choice. “With the evidence I have against you, combined with your previous record, I can ship you back to France to let your authorities deal with you - again.”

She added her middle finger to the index finger to indicate his second choice. “I can take you directly to our authorities or…” her ring finger was added to the other two: “As an appointed Sentinel, I carry out the final option in the sentence you were handed - doing what you should have done if you had any courage or sense of honour - I can end it for you now, rather than you committing suicide, for I don’t think I can trust you to carry that out. Well? What do you want?"

He stopped his half-hearted struggling for the moment, both hands upon her wrist, but she still held him off the floor by the throat.

The partial metamorphosis back to his human face was far swifter than the theatrical change of earlier. His human eyes held hers and pleaded for more mercy than he had ever shown to his victims.

She smiled at the irony.

"They'll kill me if you take me back!" He croaked past the pressure on his windpipe.

"Or I'll kill you now."

"What will your authorities do?" He ventured, hopeful of punishment lighter than the other alternatives.

"They'll kill you too, but I don't know how quickly. At least if I do it, you'll not suffer."

He took a while to come to a conclusion, but then sighed, nodded once to her and dropped his hands from her wrist. She was about to begin when he spoke, almost too quiet to hear and she held off to listen.