Joss Ware - [Awakening Heroes 02] by Embrace the Night Eternal (html)

Author:Embrace the Night Eternal (html) [Eternal, Embrace the Night]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-12-24T00:12:01.823000+00:00

Quent had been over and over and over the list of contact names found in Remington Truth’s flash drive.

The more he looked at them, this list of A-listers—politicians, movers and shakers, big-money, horribly powerful men and women, the more he felt sick to his stomach. Like bludgeoning something.

The list contained a variety of the privileged elite of the twenty-first century, many of whom Quent himself had met. Everyone from Tatiana, the famous rags-to-riches actress who’d brought Hollywood and the rest of the world to its feet, to the U.S. ambassador to France, to Liam Hegelsen, Danish CEO of the hottest electronics and computer company since Apple…even to Brandon Huvane, the British publishing mogul.

Of course, there was no proof that everyone on Truth’s contact list were members of the Cult of Atlantis. But by the looks of the names and the amount of money, knowledge, and power these people had, each in their own right—but together, it would have been formidable—they were all candidates for the Cult.

The group of people who had brought down the world. For what?

For what?

For the one thing they couldn’t buy or create. Immortality.

Quent had known, and loathed, his father. He understood the man’s ego and desire for power. What greater power than to live forever?

Who gave a flying cock if he had to destroy the world to do it.

The very thoughts haunted him, nauseated him. Kept him from sleeping. Eating. The only thing he did much of was drink.

And now that Zoë had stolen back her arrows, and, other than the brief appearance two nights ago, had made herself scarce, Quent felt as though he were on the verge of exploding.

Why she, this woman of shadow and night, should make a difference was moot. He didn’t spend any time analyzing it. He knew she was a hot, hard, fast fuck. That was what he needed.

That was the only thing that might ease some of his tension. Clear his mind.

So he could figure out how to find his father. And kill him.

Something Quent should have done—he’d had the chance to do—long ago.

If he’d done it then, when he’d had the chance, the reason, if he’d fought back then, harder, instead of just taking the beating, the pummeling that nearly killed him…would it have stopped the Change?

Quent tipped back the last of his pint and slammed the glass onto the table. The Pub’s noise drowned out the sound, and when he stood, a bit unsteadily, Wyatt looked up at him. “You all right, man?”

Quent nodded. “As right as I can be. Which isn’t to say much.”

“You heading up? Want company?”

He shook his head. “Naw.” He glanced at the petite brunette sitting next to Wyatt. Good for him. “See you later.”

He’d leave the Pub and, despite the fact that it made him feel like a bloody wanker, Quent would slip outside into the fresh, night air. He’d walk along what passed for a street, but was really little more than a glorified pathway, heading to the darker areas of the city.

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