King of the Damned (League of Guardians 2) - Page 10

“Hey, ah . . . this message is for Rowan. Babe, you’re not answering your cell, and you were supposed to check in last night.” There was a pause. “Call me when you get this.”

She turned from Azaiel, exhaling loudly as she ran fingers along her temple. Crap. Mason.

“Who’s that?”

“No one,” she answered a little too quickly and knew she was losing her edge. Azaiel threw her off her game. “You need to leave,” she said once more.

A tingle of energy slid across her skin, and she froze. He was right there, so close the heat from his body teased the coolness of her flesh.

“I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers.”

There was an arrogant tone to his voice that pressed hard on Rowan’s last button. Anger unfurled, deep in her gut, and her fingers tingled as a shot of energy sizzled through her veins.

She whirled around, chest heaving and eyes blazing.

“I don’t have time for this shit.” She pushed him, hard, and felt a sense of satisfaction that she was able to move him back a few inches. The man was a solid mass of muscle. Score one for the witch.

“My grandmother is dead—gone forever—murdered.” She let out a ragged breath and tried to get hold of her emotions. She wouldn’t break down in front of this man. “I’ve got two weeks to find the bastard who’s responsible. So I suggest you get the hell out of my way or else.”

“Two weeks?”

“Samhain is in . . .” she shook her head, mad because she’d already said too much. “Forget it.”

“Who’s marked your coven?” He moved closer, and her hands itched with the need to zap him once more, this time with ramped-up juice. She clenched her fingers as she fought the urge.

“It’s not about the coven.” She took a step back, frustrated and filled with anger. “Nana was just collateral damage, and if I don’t deal with this soon, there will be more bodies.” Oh God, to hear the words was like a punch to the gut.

“If not the coven, then what?” His arm shot out, and he grabbed her wrist.

She glanced down. His hand was large, his skin golden against her paleness. She felt his strength; it had a subtle hum of energy that slid over his flesh and melted into hers.

“Let me go.” She barely managed to get the words out. She felt her temper tickling the edges of her mind and clamped down quickly. She needed to keep a cool head—needed to stay in control. Bad things happened when she wasn’t.

Silence filled the space between them as she stared up in defiance. The gold of his eyes shimmered, and she watched as small rivers of black bled through them.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” she whispered. The slow burn of energy in her gut erupted and slid over her body in a seductive crawl. It infused her cells, electrifying them.

His grasp tightened, and his eyes were hard as he glared at her. “Why do you defy me?” His voice was low, controlled. “I’m offering to help, and you would turn it away.”

She yanked her hand from his. “For Christ sakes, can we not do this?” Rowan snarled, her anger bubbling over into ugly. She was done. Her pin had been pulled, and there was no going back. “Why do I defy you? What are you, a fucking Neanderthal? You hiding Tarzan’s balls in there?”

Her gaze fell to the crotch of his jeans.

“There’s no room for anything that’s not mine,” he answered dryly.

Her cheeks reddened as a slow smile drifted across his face, and her hand rose, the tips of her fingers sizzling with a blast of energy. She wanted nothing more than to wipe the smile from him, in the most painful way she could.

“Do it.” He was goading her.

Fuck you.

Rowan ducked, blasting a shot of energy at him as she twisted, her booted foot aimed for his gut. Unfortunately, she came up empty and would have fallen on her ass, except two strong arms slid around her midsection, pulling her from behind.

Goddamn but he’s fast. What the hell is he?

She cursed as the released energy exploded into the wall and watched as bits of plaster crumbled to the floor, along with the cuckoo clock—the one that hadn’t cuckooed since she was ten. It crashed to the floor and, wonders of wonders, let out one sad “cuckoo” before the little blue bird was silent once more.

She tried to wig

Tags: Juliana Stone League of Guardians Fantasy
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