January in Atlantis_A Poseidon's Warrior paranormal romance by Alyssa Day

Author:Alyssa Day [Day, Alyssa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-29T18:30:00+00:00

6

Eva closed her suitcase and looked around the tiny apartment. It never took her long to pack, because she'd shed possessions like she'd shed lives while running from place to place across the country. She only rented furnished rooms. She didn't see the point of owning much in the way of clothes beyond a few pairs of jeans and a few different tops. A couple of sweaters and one jacket for the cold weather. Boots, sneakers, and sandals for shoes. What more did a girl need?

And now she had a dilemma. Should she go to the bar while Flynn and the others worked on finding where the girls were being held? Noel had already called her six times and left five voicemail messages. She hadn’t listened to any of them, because she could pretty much guess what he had to say and the decibel level at which he’d say it.

It didn't matter, anyway. When she left this place, she'd smash her burner phone and leave it in a trash can at a highway rest area or, better yet, she’d do what she’d done the last time and use duct tape to affix it to the underside of the bumper of a semi truck heading in the opposite direction. If they were tracking her by technology, she wasn't going to make it easy for them.

She'd already made it too easy for Scott to find her by way of magic. When he’d ripped a handful of hair out of her scalp, he’d laughed at her. On that last night, just before she finally got the courage to run, he taunted her with it.

"I can find you anywhere with this. Locator spells are among of the simplest magics. So don't even think about running."

But back then, he hadn’t been nearly as powerful at magic as he’d liked to think he was. Even Eva, who had none, had known that. And she'd had just enough courage left that he hadn’t yet beaten out of her to make a plan and carry it out. She'd crushed several sleeping pills into his tequila and coaxed him into getting very, very drunk. When he’d passed out, she’d packed up everything she owned and started running.

In hindsight, she supposed she was lucky that he hadn't died from the combination of alcohol and pills. Scott was slime, but he wasn't worth facing a murder charge or jail time. She wouldn’t shed a tear if he died, but she also wouldn't be the one to kill him. She kept hoping that one day he would cross the line, somewhere, somehow, and go to jail. Whatever kind of jail they could keep black magic practitioners in these days. She’d read something about special cells that P-Ops had constructed with the help of white magic practitioners and experts from the shifter, vampire, and magic communities, but she didn't know exactly how they worked.

It was true, though, that most of the supernatural communities’ citizens were good people who just wanted to live their lives.

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