Woman of Blood and Bone by Annie Anderson

Author:Annie Anderson [Anderson, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Urban Fantasy
Published: 2018-02-26T23:00:00+00:00

14

MAX

For some reason, Caim’s office seemed much smaller when we all filed back into it. I don’t know if it was Caim’s anger that filled it, or if it was Striker’s wrath. Either way, the air was decidedly unfriendly.

Ruby took the liberty of ordering us some food, and while I knew it had been ages since I’d eaten, I couldn’t seem to make myself take a single bite of the juicy hamburger and fries I’d requested. Typically, I could eat my weight in burgers. Fries were also never turned away, and top it all in guacamole and hot sauce, and you had yourself one ravenous Witch. But right now, I just couldn’t make myself eat.

Odd.

I looked over at Striker, and even though he hasn’t eaten too much in the last twelve hours either, his plate is full too. The penny-pinching, miser part of myself wanted to slap the shit out of both of us for wasting food. Too many times had I been without to be wasteful, but I just couldn’t do it.

Abandoning my food, I sidle up to Striker. He hasn’t so much as said a single peep since we got back to Caim’s office. Not that I can blame the man. His world had officially been tossed on its ass.

“Hey, Strike,” I murmur, resting a comforting hand on his arm. Striker and I have always been kind of touchy – probably from a lack of real families growing up. We needed that comfort from someone, and when we became friends, that comfort came from each other.

But right now, my touch is not welcome. I realize this about a millisecond after my hand makes contact. Striker’s shoulders seem to lock, his jaw solidifying to solid granite, and I don’t think he realizes it’s me before he grabs at the arm attached to the hand touching him – grabs and squeezes with all of the incredible strength and supernatural juice he can possibly manage.

Were I able to get my body to move faster than my brain, I probably wouldn’t be in the agony I’m in right now. But alas…

My scream is silent. Striker’s is not.

He squeezes out a “don’t fucking touch me” through gritted teeth before his body turns and his eyes widen and he finally lets me go. When his fingers fall away from my still gauze-wrapped forearm, I feel the blood rushing back into the limb. Then red begins to stain the cotton, and that’s when everyone moves.

Somehow, Ian and Aidan are in between me and Striker. Ian is in his face – fang and talons at the ready to rip Striker a new one. Aidan is at his back prepared to haul him out of there if need be. Ruby and Caim are behind Striker, and their eyes are all glowy and luminescent – doing the same thing that Striker’s do when he’s pissed – which he is right now due to Ian being right in his face threatening some sort of disembowelment with a red-hot poker.

Huh. I guess Striker, Caim, and Ruby are a little more alike than I initially realized.

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