When Wicked Craves by J.K. Beck

Author:J.K. Beck
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780553907988
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2010-10-25T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

“Holy shit,” Petra said as they stepped into the glass-walled penthouse. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

In front of them, the sun was rising over Manhattan, a city that Petra had never seen but had always wanted to visit. Considering the millions of people crammed onto a tiny island, however, it was also a place that had long ago been checked off her list. Too crowded. Too many possibilities for accidental touching.

Now that she was here, the thrill of seeing the vibrant metropolis spread out like a picture postcard in front of her was tempered by the fact that Nicholas was standing in front of a wall of windows, and any second now a ray of sunshine was going to hit him dead on. The dead part being literal, considering he’d dissolve into a pile of ash immediately.

A prospect that troubled her on a number of levels, none of which she wanted to examine closely.

She hurried to the window and grabbed the cord to close the curtain, then groaned in frustration when the cord had no effect.

“Nicholas!” she repeated. “Dammit, move!”

The terror in her voice must have finally gotten through to him, because he turned to her, his expression so satisfied she feared he’d lost his mind and really was suicidal. “Come stand by me.”

“Dammit, you are not doing this.” Even as she spoke, she knew she should keep her mouth shut. He wanted to cure Serge, after all. And that meant her death.

Sooner or later, she was going to have to slip away from Nicholas. She was going to have to strike out on her own, with only her wits and, perhaps, her brother to help her avoid the wrath of the Alliance. It would be one hell of a lot easier to get away from the vampire if he were dust.

But she couldn’t wish that on him. Even had he not saved her life multiple times, she couldn’t bear the thought of knowing that Nicholas Montegue was no longer of this earth.

No, letting him turn to dust was unacceptable. When she left, she’d do so with him still alive—and undoubtedly pissed off—behind her.

He’d called her over, and now she was standing in front of him, her back to the window, her body trying to shield his. She was even on tiptoes, wishing she were a few inches taller so that her shadow could better protect his head.

She was swaying a bit, like an awkward dancer trying to follow a lead, when she realized he was fighting an amused grin.

She glared at him, and he lost the fight, chuckling as he asked her what the hell she thought she was doing.

“Saving your ass,” she said curtly. “Though I’m not entirely sure why I’m bothering.”

“Nor I.” He nodded to the windows. “Serge invented the glass. And although I have always been dubious, fearing that someday I would come to this apartment and find nothing more of my friend than a pile of dust on the floor, I confess that for years I’ve been jealous of his ability to watch the sunrise.

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