Quinn (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 12) by D. B. Reynolds

Author:D. B. Reynolds [Reynolds, D. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781611948615
Publisher: ImaJinn Books
Published: 2018-04-26T18:30:00+00:00

Quinn saw bruises on her pale skin, and his gut roiled at this evidence that he’d hurt her. “Maybe.” He took her arm with care. “Sit down, Eve. We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to sit,” she snapped, slapping at his hands.

“Fine, then we’ll stand.” He took a step closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at him, and finally let his anger show. The calm, reasonable Quinn was gone. He needed her to understand the consequences of what she’d done. “What the hell, Eve?” he growled. “Do you have a fucking death wish or something? You’re lucky your aim is so lousy. Those are vampires down there. Do you know what they’ll do if they catch you?”

“They haven’t caught me yet,” she said smugly.

“I did.”

“Only because you know where I—”

Quinn let his fangs glide out, sharp points pressing against his lower lip. He didn’t need to see the shocked look on her face to know what he looked like. He’d stared at himself in front of the mirror for hours when he’d first been turned, and he looked far more threatening now than he had then.

Eve tried to run again. Of course, she did. But she didn’t manage a single full step this time before he stopped her, his arms wrapping her in a powerful hug, his hand over her mouth in case she tried to yell. He really didn’t want to hurt her, but she fought him. Kicking, nails digging into his arms, her teeth biting his hand . . .

He pried her mouth away before she could draw blood, cupping her jaw tenderly. If she took his blood, she’d be thrown into orgasm. She’d hate that. She’d hate him. And he didn’t want her to hate him. “You don’t want to do that, sweetheart,” he said quietly.

She tried to shove his arm away, taking advantage of his careful handling. But he was done pretending to be something he wasn’t. He held her gently, but he didn’t let go.

“You lied,” she snarled, twisting around to glare at him, her eyes filled with hatred. It was nothing more than he’d expected, but it still hurt, as if she’d stabbed him deep in the chest with one of those kitchen knives.

“When?” he demanded. “When did I lie? I told you I was working with Sorley—”

“You said you wanted him dead!”

“I do. But I want Sorley dead, not every vampire on the fucking island. Look, I’m sorry about your brother, but not every vampire is a killer.”

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