Enclave 3 by Brandon Varnell

Author:Brandon Varnell [Varnell, Brandon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LitRPG
ISBN: 9780998994284
Google: kI3SvwEACAAJ
Amazon: 0998994294
Goodreads: 42445275
Publisher: Kitsune Incorporated
Published: 2018-11-15T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

Tristin woke up to the feeling of someone lightly kicking his side. It didn’t hurt, not really, but it did cause his body to jerk. Whoever was doing the kicking knew where to kick. They managed to hit a cluster of nerves, the ones just below his ribs, and the jolt to his body’s nervous system had him awake before he could even make the typical “just five more minutes” response that most teenagers gave their parents.

That was probably a good thing. He wasn’t a teenager. Not to mention the person who did the kicking had violent tendencies when she was ignored, at least regarding him.

He wondered why that was, but then he pushed the thought aside as he sat up, blinking and groaning. Last night had not been the most pleasant of nights. There were cramps in his back from the hard wood floor. He had a creak in his neck from where he slept wrong. And that wasn’t even mention how sore his ass cheek was. It felt like someone had shot him in the butt, and then someone else had taken a pair of pliers and pulled the bullet out of his aforementioned glutei.

Which was closer to the truth than he would have liked.

“Stop sitting there like some kind of idiot, Tristin,” Samantha scolded him. He looked up to see the woman looming over him, her eyes penetrating deeper his than any steel blade could ever hope to do. “I need you to get up.”

“Ugh,” Tristin groaned but nonetheless stood as commanded. Samantha had been getting more violent as time passed. He supposed a part of that was his fault, what with the teasing and the complaining and the whole keeping a dark secret from her for several long years bit. That sort of thing didn’t endear him to people.

In his defense, teasing was a part of his nature, he really wasn’t suited to this kind of work, so it was his right to complain when tasked with doing it, and that secret would have gotten him killed if she’d discovered it before the Executioners had been betrayed by the Catholic Church. She could stand to be a little more understanding.

“Come on,” Samantha commanded as they walked out of the small closet space they had taken up residence for the night. Raven hair swishing about, she peeked around the corner of the church to see if there were any enemies. Tristin stood behind her, blinking, too tired to even stare at her ass, which was an admittedly appealing prospect.

Samantha might be an uptight bitch―at least to him—but she was one of the hottest women he had ever met.

And he had met a lot of women.

“Wh-what time is it?” he asked, yawning as he followed Samantha into the church proper. Despite the place being a church in appearance only, it did look sort of like a place where people might come to worship God. There was an isle between two rows of long, wooden benches, the thick red carpet giving away its purpose.

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