Anna could count on one hand the number of times she'd been shot in the five hundred plus years she'd been a vampire. And she didn't like it at all. The fact that the arrow just missed her heart didn't help matters. If she hadn't turned just a little to the right, it would have been dead-on.
Hissing with pain, she reached up instinctively, yanking the arrow out of her shoulder and gritting her teeth together as she discarded it onto the ground and looked to see who had shot her.