Blazing Moon: An Adult Urban Fantasy (The Tynder Crown Chronicles Book 2) by Wendy Owens

Author:Wendy Owens [Owens, Wendy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Four Bean Soup Publishing
Published: 2016-11-29T05:00:00+00:00

Seven

The Amazing Ant-Boy

Nash sits in a chair across from me in front of the fireplace in my apartment. I can feel his eyes on me, and I know he wants to say something. I want to curse him out one moment, and then rip off his clothes the next. He’s gorgeous, and sometimes he seems like he could be the most thoughtful man in the world. At the same time, he’s strong and primitive. He isn’t afraid to show his raw strength; it’s part of who he is.

It’s obvious by the way he looks at me that he notices the heat between us, despite my best efforts to convince him otherwise. But no matter how sexy he is, I don’t dare let my imagination linger on the idea of us too long. I won’t say I am the most morally upstanding citizen, but even I have lines I don’t cross. I can’t be with a murderer. They can call a Bimtok an executioner and give him a license to carry out judgment on the guilty, but it isn’t justice. What the queen is proposing is wrong—just as wrong as the man behind creating the human army of Lycans.

My mind shifts to the queen’s other request. Once I confirm who is behind the army, they are not to be arrested. They are to be brought directly to her. It’s clear there’s something much larger going on here than just some rogue werewolves. She can feel the same thing I do. There’s a larger plot, and the queen is at the center of it, or should I say her throat is.

Lord Ardack seems the most obvious suspect, but what if the real culprit behind these transformations and killings just wants me to see things that way? I think about the tall, slender man I saw at the club. Who was he? Peter has to know more about him. Where did Peter go?

I sniff the scotch in my glass, shaking the cubes of ice gently from side to side, staring into the amber liquid. One of the many perks of being a Royal Magistrate is that any of my requests, as long as it is in the line of duty, of course, will be fulfilled, no questions asked. One of my first requests was a case of Balvenie Thirty. I take a drink like I’m sipping away the dark thoughts, stashing them deep inside my belly. But I know, no matter how much or how fast I drink, I can’t outrun them, but I’ll never stop trying.

Piper enters the room; I can hear the sound of her feet as she paces.

“Any word on our friend?” I ask about Peter. She has been running through her phone list, searching for anyone who might have seen him.

“No,” she huffs. “And I’m getting really worried. Nobody has seen him since we got separated last night.”

“Hmm … that seems convenient,” I remark. Nash is sitting quietly and still, watching us.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks pointedly.

“Nothing,” I answer lightly, not looking for another fight with the fiery little redhead.

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