Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Gods, to think that Lan’ara had been sold to a place like this for the price of a drink! It was almost more than he could bear.
He stiff-armed the cheap wooden door, leaving it hanging on one hinge as he barged into the darkened interior.
“Hey, now! What do you think you’re doing?”
A blousy female with matted red hair came running up to him. The Rage was on him so intensely Need could hardly speak. But somehow he managed to get out a few words.
“A girl was brought to you,” he snarled, glaring down at her. “Long, curly hair and big dark eyes with gold flecks in them. Creamy brown skin. Where is she?”
The female—who must be Mistress Bigaboo—frowned and put a hand on her ample hip.
“If you’re talking about my new girl, you’ll have to wait your turn. She’s with a customer now.”
“What?” Need roared so loudly that she actually turned pale and took a step back. “Where is she?” he demanded, glaring at her.
His eyes felt hot and red and he knew they were probably glowing with the Rage—the murderous need to kill whoever had threatened his female. But he didn’t care—he just needed to get to Lan’ara.
“WHERE IS SHE?” he roared in the woman’s face.
“I…she…” Mistress Bigaboo took a step back, her face white.
And that was when he heard Lan’ara’s voice coming from somewhere above.
“Help! Somebody help me! I’ve been kidnapped and I’m being attacked!”
Need cocked his head for a moment and then charged up the rickety stairs. He was greeted by a long hallway with a row of doors on either side.
Need glared at the cheap wooden doors. Lan’ara was behind one of them and he was going to find her and kill whoever had made her scream like that.
He swore he would.
Forty
Lan’ara was going to throw up—she knew she was. The more the big, dirty man touched her, the sicker she felt. Her body was reacting to him with the same violent intensity she remembered from the time she’d eaten bad stew meat that one time when she was younger. She wanted to scream but she didn’t dare to open her mouth again for fear she would lose every bit of the breakfast she’d eaten that morning—a morning which seemed so dreadfully far away and long ago she could barely remember it.
Dimly, she was aware that there was some kind of commotion going on outside her room. The sound of doors slamming open and people shouting penetrated the fog of nausea but the pressing need she felt to empty the contents of her stomach was so overwhelming she could scarcely pay it any attention.
“Come on, girlie—give us a kiss,” the customer holding her against he wall crooned, leaning closer.
Lan’ara squeezed her eyes closed and turned her head to the side, avoiding his mouth, filled with rotten teeth. His breath was worse than the fetid odor wafting through the window but that alone couldn’t account for her need to throw up—could it?
Going to puke! she thought dismally—she hated to throw up! Going to be sick all over him…
And then something penetrated the fog around her. Someone was calling her name. No…not just calling it—roaring it.
“Lan’ara? Girl, where in the Seven Hells are you?”
Lan’ara felt a surge of hope. She swallowed hard, trying to get her gorge under control.
“Here!” she gasped, wishing her voice would come out stronger…louder. “I’m here, Need—in here!”
Her voice sounded barely more than a whisper in her own ears but somehow it was enough. The wooden door to her room banged open, splintering into long, jagged shards with the impact as it hit the wall. Looking over the customer’s shoulder, Lan’ara saw Need standing there. Or maybe looming might have been a better word.
His eyes were blazing and blood red and he seemed to have grown somehow—to have doubled in height and mass. His broad shoulders filled the doorway and his chest heaved with emotion.
“You!” His voice was a low, menacing growl that would have struck fear into the heart of even the fiercest male. “Get your hands off my female—now!”
“What?” The dirty male pinning Lan’ara to the wall half-turned his head in apparent confusion. “Who are you?” he snapped at Need. “Wait your turn—I already paid.”
This was absolutely the wrong thing to say to the huge, angry Kindred warrior. Striding forward, he took the man’s head in both hands and gave a sharp twist.
There was a sickening crunch and then Lan’ara found she was looking at the back of the man’s head instead of the front. Need had twisted it all the way around so that his greasy, thinning hair was where his face had been a moment before.
The man’s hands dropped lifelessly away from her shoulders and his big body sagged in Need’s merciless grip.
The moment his skin was no longer touching hers, the terrible need to puke which had come on her the moment he grabbed her, left Lan’ara immediately. It was replaced by a swell of relief so strong it nearly knocked her over.