Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
She’d wanted to finally…unwind. Laugh, if she wanted to. Smile. Show some sort of emotion, like the gargoyles did so freely. To not worry about anyone’s expectations, or how much thigh she was showing, or how her actions might reflect on the alpha. Maybe flirt without worrying about the boy’s status. Go home with someone without it being a huge event.
Suddenly the warnings made a lot more sense. She felt like a fool for making them chase her. For sneaking out and hiding.
She took another sip of the drink she’d carried in with her, the taste sharp but flavors coming through—cinnamon, cocoa, and citrus. The ice chilled it enough that it wasn’t a punch in the face, and the rind helped bring forward the natural citrus in the bourbon. Sue had known exactly what would work. The man was perceptive.
Speaking of…
She pulled open the door a crack, leaning forward to speak.
He half turned, his gaze pointed toward the bar and his movements always so fluid. Reaching back, he grabbed the door handle without distinctly looking and pulled it shut again.
She sighed. Took another sip.
He always treated her like a treasured object, watching over her so Uncle Auzzie didn’t have to, but this was a little much. She wasn’t a Jane. She wasn’t still learning the ropes, like Auntie Jessie.
She wasn’t a child.
Taking a breath, she twisted the handle and pulled—
The door barely moved an inch before it was yanked shut again.
She had no idea why that made her look to the heavens with a little smile. Mr. Scary Alpha with all his scars. All the growls, the stern looks, the aloofness… Inside, he was a warm puddle of goo, hoping someone would make him a daisy chain and ask to be friends. He did a terrible job of hiding it.
“I’m good,” she said brusquely through the door. “I’m good to return. I was just a little…taken aback, is all. I’ve never seen something like that before.”
“Neither have I,” he replied. “But it didn’t have the same sort of interest in me as it did in you. Neither of us are wanted, anyway. This is Niamh’s territory. We need to let her handle the situation without distractions.”
“Heard.” She paused for a moment. “Can I come out now, though? It stinks in here.”
Nothing happened. She popped out a hip, happy no one was here to see her tantrum.
“Sue, I followed instructions. I did as she asked. I shouldn’t be punished for that.” Another pause. “It’s making my bourbon taste bad.”
The door bumped against the frame, Broken Sue releasing the catch, and then it swung her way. She caught it and opened it slowly, relishing in the clean—or, at least, not as rank as the bathroom—fragrance from beyond.
She stepped out with composure and allowed him to step to her right, positioning himself in the path of danger, should it come this way.
“What’s happened?” she whispered, because his gaze was still pointed toward the bar.
“They’re just talking.”
“Body language?”
He barely moved, just a flare of certain muscles along his arm and through his broad shoulders. She understood every syllable in the way her father had taught her, a master at subtle body movement.
Touch and go. Tension.
One day she hoped to get Sue’s history—to find out who’d trained him and how. She could learn a lot from him. When his pain wasn’t so sharp, of course. When he wasn’t guarding his heart with the claws of a hurt and desperate man.
She understood that pain, though it wasn’t nearly the same as hers. She’d finally gotten her uncle back. Her broken family had reunited and become whole again. His never would.
“Niamh?” she whispered.
“Leading the conversation, though not relaxed. Not like she’d talk to me or you. Not like she’d talk to Tristan, even. She’s wary of this creature, though it isn’t a total stranger. That means it is highly dangerous. Highly dangerous. I hope she’s doing damage control and not inviting it into the fold.”
Aurora took a step forward to see.
Sue stepped in unison even though his gaze was turned away.
“Do you dance?” she asked, touching his arm lightly. He flexed, not planning on taking the silent request and stepping out of the way. “Those with a detailed understanding of body language usually make great dancers.”
He didn’t comment, but the tightening of his body was answer enough. Not since…
“It isn’t going to hurt if you just let me see,” she murmured, persistent in her touch, showing her stubbornness.
He tilted his head just a bit. You’re annoying me.
He did take a step back, though, just enough to let her peer around his big arm.
The angle of Niamh’s body was off, not at all like when she’d been sitting at the bar earlier. She was leaning away a little, for one, as though she thought it possible the creature might lunge for her. Two, she was clearly ready to combat it, forearms on the bar and ready for use. And three, there was a strange sort of aura around her. Magic, definitely. Not shadows and darkness like Aurora might have expected from Niamh’s personality, but a sort of shimmer, like a sparkle.