Both women got changed in heated silence. With frowns on their lips, they kept their backs turned and their minds occupied with hostile thoughts of the other.
Alia was dressed in one of Anabel's petite tops and shorts. She glanced at the red-haired woman before focusing on the tiled floor. 'Oliver can do much better,' she thought with a frown. 'What's the point of being beautiful if a nasty personality easily outshines it?'
'I bet her mother was a slut,' Anabel bitterly thought as she laced her camouflage combat boots. With a frown on her red-painted lips, she looked at Alia from over her shoulder, only seeing Alia's lengthy raven hair that cascaded down to her waist.
'This is my chance,' she thought. Anabel bared her fangs, intending to take Alia down, draining her of all her blood, but then the small shaman suddenly disappeared.
