The Last Furione - Chapter 1 by Edwina Smith

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SUMMARY: Max Gueverra is attractive, 5"11, has long, jet-black hair and is extremely dangerous. Follow her story as she battles through betrayal, forgiveness, love and hate. Combines the ideas of Underworld, L. K. Hamilton and Kelley Armstrong. Please don't sue!

Running... Running... All I ever do is run. Never stopping in one place for too long. Can't let them find me. They will never have me. I will not go back. Not without a fight.


My name is Max Gueverra, and no, I am not a boy. I am 20 years old today. Nothing much to celebrate. No-one to celebrate with, anyway. I am 5"11, have long, jet black hair and black eyes; not dark brown, but pure black to match my hair. Pale, creamy skin makes my eyes stand out even more. I guess you could call me attractive, but I really don't know - or care.

All I want to do is stay unnoticed - not too flashy or too dim. Just non-descript, someone you wouldn't look twice at. I try to go around without calling too much attention to myself. If there is one thing I am good at, it is being invisible.

However, I do have hobbies. I love anything on a board! Snowboarding, surfboarding, skateboarding - you name it and I can do it. It's like a talent; I can do anything I set my mind to and do it well.

Oh, and another thing I totally love are motorbikes the faster, the better! My favourite thing in the world right now is my lightweight, custom built, black modified racing bike. It can go really fast and has gotten me out of some tight spots lately.

It is my only friend; the only friend I can depend on; the only friend who doesn't let me down; the only friend I need.

I am also extremely good at martial arts and basic fighting. If you are on the run, you have to know how to defend yourself. I would say I specialise in karate and kenpo, as well as various other defensive and offensive styles. I am also trained to use different types of swords, various other weapons and although I have an excellent aim with guns, I refuse to use them. Not after what they did to my mother...

As I said before, I have a talent for anything challenging. The harder and more challenging the better.


As far as I know I was born somewhere around Tokyo, Japan. I learned to speak Japanese at the same time as English as I grew up so I'm not really sure what my first language is. Does it matter? Funny thing is that when I'm really stressed out or scared I start talking in rapid Japanese. I hope people can understand me... Not!

My mother was American/Canadian and I guess you could say I look like her. I think she was on the run from someone/something that happened in America but I'm not sure, as I never got the chance to find out.

One day when I came home from school, I found her. Shot in the heart. Murdered. Dead. Gone. Probably the people looking for us... I was nine years old that day. I never even got to say goodbye. Great present.

I packed the important things I owned and I ran; I have been running ever since.

Luckily, my mother had enrolled me at a dojo in central Tokyo so I went there to get my shell-shocked head together and to make a plan. When I got there, they had been expecting me.

Maybe my mother had foreseen this - what would happen, what I would do and then created a plan to keep me safe.

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