Forevermore by Kristen Callihan

Author:Kristen Callihan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Forever
Published: 2016-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Layla had expected Sin to follow her out of the house. She’d counted on it, in truth. To the point where she’d asked Pole to have Sin’s coat ready as well as hers. What she had not expected, however, was his capitulation when it came to seeking out a fight.

Oh, he’d fussed but she suspected that had far more to do with his enjoyment of verbal sparring with her rather than any true objection. So then, they were going to hunt for monsters.

Layla could not think of them as anything else. It was simply too fantastical for her to wrap her head around, this whole notion of demons, werewolves, and beings capable of changing shapes. How extraordinary that she too was one of these strange fiends. She wished she remembered the change. She wanted to look at herself in a mirror and see what she became.

“Do you miss singing?” Sin asked at her side. They were walking through a crowded section of The Strand, headed towards Covent Garden. It was nearing five in the evening and many a clerk were already at the pubs. Men spilled out onto the streets, mugs of ale in hand.

“Yes,” she said simply. A thud of pain hit her chest. “Deeply.”

Frowning, he glanced at her. “I’m sorry, little bird.”

She could not speak so she gave a tight nod.

“What happened?”

Layla cleared her throat. “Augustus tells me it is because I reached my immortal maturity. All I can tell you is that one day, I opened my mouth and instead of hearing sweet, clear notes, ugly garbled sounds came out.”

She shuddered, burrowing deeper into her overcoat. “I didn’t know what to think. Perhaps I had picked up a throat chill. Which would make better sense if I’d felt ill. I was fine, however, save for my voice.”

Sin’s arm brushed against hers. Though they both wore suits and heavy coats to ward off the frosty air, she felt the touch along her entire side. And when his gloved pinky found her gloved pinky and he hooked his over hers, her body went warm.

They walked for a time, linked by that small contact. And then Sin spoke again. “Do you miss the stage?”

“No,” she said without hesitation. When he raised a brow, she shook her head. “Honestly, I do not. When I first took to the stage, it was . . . How can I explain? It was exhilarating, exciting. All those people watching me, rapt and adoring. I had them in the palm of my hand, just by singing them a song.”

Oh, she did miss that bit. She missed the way her body would flush with heat, her nipples tightening along with her sex—the way her heart beat strong and the sense of pure power that flowed over her when she sang. But she could not explain that to Sin, not without blushing, hot and red.

“But it was exhausting,” she said truthfully. “And the pressure to perform taxed my nerves. For there were always those who loved nothing more than to pick me apart.

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