Roaring Shadows: Macey Book 2 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 8) by Gleason Colleen

Author:Gleason, Colleen [Gleason, Colleen]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Fiction/Romance/Paranormal
ISBN: 9781931419802
Publisher: Avid Press
Published: 2015-08-29T16:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

~ Of French Grammar and Semantics ~

Sebastian was alone in the pub, as he usually was just after dawn broke. It was a quiet time of day, and though the place tended to smell like stale spirits and body odor until he mopped the floor and wiped the counters, it was nevertheless quiet and provided welcome solitude. The simple tasks of cleaning and preparing for the night to come were a welcome routine for they were mindless and satisfying.

He had just returned from his almost-daily visit to St. Patrick’s Church at four o’clock in the morning, leaving the sanctuary just before the sun was about to rise.

This schedule necessitated him wearing a heavy cloak when he ventured into the infant light of day, and required his driver Ned to be on the watch for enemies of either the mortal or undead type. After last autumn, when he’d been taken for that unexpected ride in Al Capone’s limousine after one predawn visit, Sebastian took no chances.

Today he’d gone with a sense of expectation and hope. He sat in the church, basking in the silence as he twisted the loose ring on his right hand. But if he’d expected some great revelation or unexpected miracle now that one Ring of Jubai had begun to shift, he was disappointed.

Instead, he was alone but for a cloaked, veiled woman who knelt on a prie-dieu in front of the Blessed Virgin Mary and hardly moved the entire time he was present. She gave no indication she was aware of his presence, though she was here nearly every morning when he came. She rose to her feet just before Sebastian was about to leave himself, and he saw from her movements that she was very elderly, stooped, and took great care with each deliberate step.

It was a stark reminder that he’d lived as long as—likely longer, for surely she couldn’t be 120 years old—this old woman, and yet he bore no outward sign of those many decades. A blessing and a curse.

Having made his sabbatical to the church, and having been disappointed that nothing seemed to have changed, Sebastian was in a foul mood when he returned to the pub. Surely it didn’t help that the explicit, discomfiting dream still lingered in the back of his mind, and that he hadn’t heard from Wayren for months.

Why was the bloody female never around when he wanted to talk to her? Wasn’t that just like a—

The interior door opened across the room—the one attached to the hidden private entrance from Temple’s aunt’s millinery shop—and Sebastian stiffened. Before she even came into sight, he’d sensed, smelled, recognized Macey’s presence.

Devil take it, not today.

But the minute she came through the door, he realized things were going to be even worse than he’d anticipated. She had fire in her eyes, and her entire being was a ball of fury and demanding. And the faint smell of coitus, of satisfaction and musk and sensuality, clung to her in a hot, red aura.

Sebastian kept his expression calm, even managing to show his normal, insouciant smile.

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