"I'm going to die."
Mason Richardson came to terms with that fact four blocks back when the natural humans had spotted him. He wasn't sure how they figured out he was a shifter or even if they knew, but they saw him walking alone on the deserted street and the chase commenced. He'd already taken a knife in the ribs when one of them caught him in an alley. A feral smile graced his face. That one would never stab another shifter.
He skidded around the corner and ran into another group. Shit, one of his pursuers must have radioed ahead and they were waiting for him. He fought the grasping hands, but he was caught. A fatalistic laugh bubbled from his lips. He'd managed to survive ten years on his own since he escaped from the lab. Now he was going to die at the hands of a bunch of redneck yokels.
He thought about shifting. No. Why give them another excuse to kill him? Mason doubled over as a steel-toed boot connected with his stomach. He felt a rib break. Not even his advanced healing capabilities would let him survive this.
"Make peace with your maker," one of his assailants growled at him.
He couldn't help the hysterical chuckling. Make peace with his maker? His maker was a psychotic scientist and Mason didn't want anything to do with the fucker except kill him. Another knife cut across his arm. He was lucky that one didn't hit an artery. Fists were pounding his flesh with each swing. His superior strength didn't mean anything against the mob.
He was losing blood and weakening. It wouldn't be long for him now. He took a swipe at the nearest man, feeling his knuckles crunch the man's nose. He wondered why he was fighting. Life didn't mean much anymore. Struggling to survive in a world that hated him hadn't been a picnic. A baseball bat connected with his knee and he went down.
How had they known he was a shifter? He'd escaped the lab before they could freeze brand his number on his forehead. When he had stopped running for a few days, he'd dug out the micro-chip the assholes had planted in his wrist. It had hurt like a bitch, but he didn't mind pain.
Darkness started to descend over Mason's vision. An odd sense of peace washed over him. It would be time to stop fighting soon and maybe then he could rest.
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