Ursula's flashback/shared memory is over and her reaction is less than forgiving...
***
“You cunt.” Ursula’s blue eyes were
huge, hate-filled holes in her face. I swallowed reflexively. The taste of her
blood was tantalizingly sweet. We stared
at each other, aghast, until the lights in Oliver’s conference room flared on
and we screwed up our eyes in protest.
“What the fuck just happened?” Neal
demanded. He stood by the light switch, blood smeared across his face and bare
chest. Multiple bite wounds stood out on his throat.
Parker and Gareth stood so close,
their bodies brushed. Parker’s lips were rouged with Gareth’s blood. Both of
them looked drugged by shock.
Andre, my master and trigger, sat
by himself on the edge of a leather sofa at the end of the room. Blood stained
his half unbuttoned blue shirt. He visibly struggled to overcome the haze that
had enveloped him during our blood exchange.
Oliver stood by the black lacquer
conference table. Proud and devastatingly powerful, he simply stared at me, his
gaze calculating.
“You. Fucking. Freak.” Ursula shrieked the last word and spat a bloody wad of
phlegm at me. Hot and wet, it splattered across my face, but I made no move to
wipe it away. She ached to punch me, I could tell by her contorted face and
clenched fists, but some small shred of self preservation clung to her senses.
No fighting in Oliver’s conference room. I had a lousy feeling she’d lay in
wait in the underground garage though.
Great snippet... I didn't want to stop reading!
ReplyDeleteThis is the second book in the series. The first book is out for submission and I'm hoping to hear back soon. Meanwhile, I'll share excerpts from this one six paragraphs and one Sunday at a time. :) Thanks for stopping by, Sara!
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