Burned by J. F. Lewis

Author:J. F. Lewis
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781451651874
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2012-02-15T18:27:51+00:00

20

MARILYN

MY UNFAIR LADY—

A BRIEF INTERLUDE, 2 OF 3

Can you really not sense it all?” the angry bald man asked.

“You suck at this.” I fished a cigarette out of my purse and lit up. As much as I hate the damn things, I’m addicted. When I was a thrall, each one was a victory over Roger. Each step took me closer to death and escape. It was the same way with alcohol and anything that did long-term damage in subtle ways. With faster methods unavailable to me, I didn’t care what killed me first. I wanted out. With me gone, I thought Roger would screw up, try to take someone Eric cared about and be caught at it, or cross Greta, try to force his way into her pants . . . and then either Eric or Greta would put an end to his evil ass.

“You can’t smoke in here,” the Iversonian snapped.

I answered him with two careful rings of smoke, one inside the other, both of them aimed at his face. “I can smoke where I damn well please.”

“Do not test me, Marilyn.” The Iversonian gestured as if drawing a sword from midair, and bam, there it was in his hand. It would have been more impressive if I hadn’t seen it several times already. I’d been here, what, an hour? The man sure liked to whip it out.

“What are you going to do?” I asked. “Kill me?”

“No.” He spun the sword in a practiced arc. “But you are wrong if you think death is beyond you.”

“So the ‘true’ part of ‘true immortal’ is a load of crap?” To be honest, it was the first interesting thing the man had said since I walked in. He was a guy, but not in the same way as Eric. The Iversonian liked to have his way, and he liked to be a big man. Showing off was so important to him that he collected things and people, not because he cared about them but because he wanted to keep others from possessing them. A trophy hound. A trophy hound who thought the fighting part was important. Inside, I was too busy alternately mooning over and being pissed at Eric to care about boys and their toys.

“As a true immortal, your energy may never be destroyed, but that does not mean it can’t be absorbed and repurposed by another.”

“I already told you, I’m not going to suck it.” I was this close to stubbing my cigarette out on his nice dance floor, but he wasn’t doing anything wrong, so I ground it out on my palm instead. The pain was disappointing and brief. Probably like the Iversonian in bed. Not that I knew for sure, but it was an educated guess. For the first time in many years, the smell of cigarette smoke didn’t smell so sweet. Maybe I should try those darned electronic cigarettes. I looked up to see the Iversonian staring at me. “Okay. Sorry. Tell me again.”

“Close your eyes and concentrate,” the Iversonian said without missing a beat.

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