“I could use a good cup of coffee,” her mother said. She stood in front of the stove, the light from the kitchen window streaming through her ethereal form.
“You and me both.” Andrea grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. She didn’t have time to figure out what her mother was up to. “I’ve got to run.”
“Close the door, honey. You’ll let in the cold.”
“Whatever.”
Andrea paused at the closed door of her one bedroom apartment. If her mother had survived childbirth, Andrea would have already been trained as an Amazon warrior. Instead she had to jump through hoop after hoop just to prove she was worthy. The Amazons seemed to have a lot of rules that seemed specifically designed to keep Andrea from actually becoming a full warrior like her mother had been.
She looked back at the kitchen, but it was empty. Picking up her motorcycle helmet, she wasn’t going to waste any more time getting to the Amazon estate on the edge of Wolf Creek.4