Few Are Angels 2: Awakened by Inger Iversen

Author:Inger Iversen [Iversen, Inger]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Children's eBooks, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Children's Books, Fantasy & Magic, Coming of Age, Science Fiction, Fantasy, New Adult & College, Paranormal & Urban, Fantasy & Scary Stories, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction, Science Fiction; Fantasy & Scary Stories
Amazon: B00BIX062U
Publisher: Inger Iversen Books, LLC
Published: 2013-02-22T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

KALE

The snow had stopped falling outside, and the night air was clear and crisp, revealing a worn, callused moon. I stood in the middle of the backyard with my eyes closed, listening to the night sounds around me. Winter months here were painfully quiet as people often used the homes around me for vacation—a getaway from noisy hustle of their jobs or the cankerous bustle of their cities.

While their nights were filled with blissful sleep, mine were filled with the tortuous sound of their resting heartbeats, the soft mews of their breaths, and the sweet scent of warm flesh around me. The more the thirst demanded of me, the more I pulled back. The beast within me thrashed with anticipation and impatience. It sought to consume and control me, and tonight I worried that my strength would soon fail me. Bagged blood held no warmth, no pulse, and did nothing to ease the beast’s hunger that gnawed at my belly and burned my throat.

I worried that saving Ella would put her at my beast’s mercy, leaving me helpless to do anything but witness it destroy her. How could I save her from one monster, only to put her in the hands of another? Jace and his stupid plan to prove our immortality had been a mistake. I hadn’t feed in at least three days, and though I could normally last a week, la Luxure had weakened my will. I hadn’t lost a significant amount of blood, but with the hunger pains and my recent blackouts I should have allowed him to take the knife’s blade. My minute lost of blood could end up detrimental to a tasty human’s life.

My phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket, thankful for the interruption from where my thoughts were taking me.

“Yes,” I grated, my voice little better than a growl.

The caller chortled, his voice a deep bass that I could easily recognize. Deacon. “My man Kale, you sound worse for wear.”

I grunted in reply and headed back into the house. The heat from the fire I’d started for Alex and Mia slapped me in the face, rousing the beast and eliciting a tight growl from my stomach.

“Man, you must really be in a bind if you risked calling me. Moore is still gunnin’ for your head.” He chuckled again, a low rumble that lacked humor.

I didn’t care—much. Tony Moore was a criminal, but with all the advantages the Chorý status gave him made him ten times more dangerous and made it easier for him to stay under the law’s radar. I had stopped enough of his operations to cost him about a million dollars in dirty money, causing him to place a bounty on my head, one double the amount of money I’d cost him. I guess I should’ve been flattered that someone thought I was worth two point six million dollars.

Tony Moore wasn’t a distraction that I could allow. There were more important things to deal with, like the favor I needed.

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