A Shade of Vampire 79_A Game of Death by Bella Forrest

Author:Bella Forrest [Forrest, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nightlight Press
Published: 2019-08-15T04:00:00+00:00

Esme

When Kalon came to, he was partially submerged in the cold-water tub on the first floor of the Nalorean woman’s house. Her name, I’d learned, was Fifelle. The Rimian faction member was also awake but tied up and unable to move or speak—only groaning and moaning in protest, as he squirmed and repeatedly failed to free himself.

Kalon sucked in a loud breath, sitting up from the ice-water shock. Having been so deeply asleep until now, he hadn’t realized the sort of frozen hell he was coming back to. Fifteen minutes had passed since he’d fallen, and I needed us out of here as quickly as possible.

Fifelle had brought all the ice she’d been able to scrape off the box in her kitchen, and I’d used towels soaked in cold water to rub Kalon’s face, hoping to wake him up quickly.

“What in the ever-living—”

“You were out.” I cut him off, avoiding a string of profane words. I’d heard him curse before, during other violent encounters. Kalon could easily get a Potty Mouth Trophy without much effort.

He sprang to his feet, clothes soaked in cold water, his skin pale but his cheeks red, trying to make sense of everything. It was very hard not to laugh, but focusing on the urgency helped a lot. I handed him a dry towel.

“Come on, we need to get this guy out of here,” I said. He patted his face and rubbed his head with the towel, taking deep breaths in the process.

“What happened?” Kalon asked, looking at me, then at the Rimian, whom I’d dragged into the bathroom to keep an eye on while I’d waited for Sleeping Beauty over here to wake up.

“You got darted.” I snorted a chuckle, fiery blush spreading through my cheeks. I’d have hoped for more charming-sounding laughter, but it was hard, considering the unintended humor of this situation.

He stepped out of the tub, his legs still a little shaky. Water dripped from his clothes, the fabric molded onto every curve and line of his athletic body. My mouth became dry, yet another reaction I had no control over. Kalon was too busy feeling embarrassed to even notice my juvenile awkwardness or my hungry gawking—I could see the shape of his muscles through the shirt and even the velvety vest: his rock-hard abs and carved thighs, his sculpted shoulders and strong arms. My temperature, otherwise graveyard-cool, was rising.

“My head hurts,” Kalon muttered, scowling at the Rimian. “He’s the one who got me, isn’t he?” He looked at me, and I pressed my lips into a thin line in order to stop myself from grinning again. I shook my head, and he shifted his focus back to the Rimian. “Okay. Either way, we’re gonna talk, the three of us. I owe one of your colleagues for that dart, but since I can’t collect from them, well… I’ve got you.”

Fear twinkled in the Rimian’s brown eyes, but he didn’t exhibit any other reaction. At first glance, he seemed completely stoic, but I

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