A Thread of Deepest Black by Finn Marlowe

Author:Finn Marlowe
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub, pdf
Tags: Shapeshifters, M/M Paranormal, Source: Amazon
ISBN: 9781609283582
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Published: 2011-02-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Leaving him handcuffed to his headboard, Killian tore off without a backward glance. Colton felt it when the door opened and he let the hated dark hunters in, their presence a dart in the heart and setting everything to burning and burning. They’re just men, he reminded himself, not wolves out hunting. Men. Nothing is happening that requires any killing. Nothing!

Waiting was pure agony. The other two reeked more fully than Killian, not scents that bespoke of hunting and captured souls, just the scents of eager youth. They were younger werewolves, not many years passed the dreaded, dangerous adolescence. Killian had not lied about that, either, the no-hunting; they kept the locals in line. Hunting was not permitted. Fuck that up and you were on your own.

Knowing all of those things didn’t soothe his shifter blood any. That was part and parcel of what had driven the black into him. Too much hunting. Made it hard to endure the presence of werewolves in daily life, and they were everywhere. Not full-bloods like Killian and the two downstairs, they were fewer, but there were mixed bloods everywhere tasting of wickedness, even if they didn’t know what they were, even if the power of transformation was beyond them. Shifters like him, with crappy senses but deadly killer instincts, had it easier than those shifters who sensed deep and far and wide. Colton had sympathy for them. His brother Drayton was halfway in the middle, not quite as deadly, but a hell of a lot more sensitive. He’d been avoiding his family like the plague and it hurt to think of them, even in passing.

The handcuff was tight and would come off only if he broke or dislocated his thumb or wrecked the bed frame. Neither option had much appeal, and if either of the two unknowns downstairs set one foot on the stairs, he would shift the entire problem into the vortex: the cuffs, the headboard, the very bed itself.

It wouldn’t be necessary. Killian had them to hand. Of course he did; control was his thing. Yet…it was time to go. Face…whatever. Whomever. It wasn’t like they could kill him. Take more than one shifter to get a single lick in—two, most likely three or more. At once. Thank the benefits of constant hunting. Not that they would try, at least not yet. They wanted to hunt him to death so it looked faultless. Killing Colton in his own home would be disastrous to their cause. Plus, Drayton and his father would not stand for it. There’d be vengeance.

Kill them all!

Colton needed to get all nine Council members together in one place at the same time where he could kill them all at once. Doing so would take all his power, all the power of his gift, and maybe drain away his very life, but that was forfeit anyways. Duty was duty. And the duty was his, not Killian’s.

Bella Luna! Stupid Killian. How he hated that man’s insight. Colton did not like that Killian was smarter than him.

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