Storm was chatting with Lucy and Justin, in their phone group , around a time when she should be sleeping, when she heard her name being droned in her ears. “S-t-o-r-m” She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked around the room she shared with Kaden sometimes. There was no one. The voice sounded familiar, and until she felt the eeriness in the room, she didn’t know who it was. The vampire.She got up from the empty bed, and sauntered toward the door, needing to get to Kaden as soon as possible, but the door wouldn’t budge. She stamped her foot on the floor out of frustration, as fear suddenly took root in her mind and body. Where was he when she needed him? Why hadn’t he spent the night with her? She wondered, never minding that she had been one to ask they sleep on separate beds tonight, after he had returned from his meeting with his people, after she had returned from seeing her friends off with Lent. The voice called for her name again, and she shuddered before she could help it, h
Storm groaned tiredly; under the full weight of the knowledge she had been absorbing for the past four hours. Kaden had been true to his word, and with the help of Jiraq, had bundled more than thirty books which smelt of oldness into her room this morning, just before she dressed for school. “For those written in old language, Jiraq was kind enough to let you have his transcriber, so that you can better understand it. You can check them out after classes today.” Kaden had said, when he had stepped into her room with a fellow whom she knew went by the name, Micheal, Liam’s younger brother. She had found out right after Liam’s recuperation weeks ago, about the wicked action on the young fellow who didn’t look a year older than her. The first book on the pile had gotten her attention after the duo had left the room, and picking it up, she had decided to peek at a page, then return to her preparation for school. But a page had turned to two pages, and then five pages, until school was
All through the week, Storm only concentrated on the books Kaden had given her, or rather on the first book she had collected from the pile. Jutul had done the same, concentrating on the second book he had picked. Both had only taken breaks when they wanted to eat or when they wanted to train with Casper for an hour. To assuage Kaden’s caveman jealousy, all the reading had been in the dining downstairs, and yet they weren’t close enough to whatever the books were on about. They weren’t close to the end either, and the transcribers were doing a poor job, despite Jiraq’s input sometimes. It was then that Storm had learnt that Jiraq wasn’t done with the book either. ‘What are you doing with one of the hardest books in the pile?” had been his first question when she had solicited for his help. He had gone ahead to pick up a smaller book, written in English, for her and Jutul to start with, but she had declined—she had grown attached to the old book. And she had vowed to bring it to a fi
Storm’s mind kept conjuring up provocative images, as she and Kaden walked hand in hand around the clan. The kiss they had shared in her room still tingled on her lips, still kept heat in her blood, still made her hunger for more. She inhaled sharply when Kaden turned and stared at her, his eyes brimming with the emotions that she was sure was playing out in her own mind. For a second, she feared that he might have peeked into her dirty mind, but then she remembered that they were not bonded yet, not in that sense. It brought her swift relief which came with a coating of abashed-ness seen in the coloring of her cheeks and necks, something that wasn’t lost on Kaden who was battling to hold on to his honor. He cussed at himself for closing her lips with his earlier, knowing what could happen from there. But she had been speaking, and her luscious mouth had been like water in a desert land; he had been parched so much that he couldn’t have been able to help himself. And now, the stirr
A girl walks into a bar, dressed in a black crop top and ripped blue jeans. A black chunky boot which has seen better years adorned her foot.The bar was empty, not yet open to customers. It looked normal-windowless walls painted black, rows of glass bottles, the smell of beer and stale air. But it wasn't normal, standing on the edge of Shappy Town as it did. She wasn’t surprised though. It was still late afternoon. This place gets filled and going only at night.“Storm? What are you doing here?" A man washing glasses asked her. He looked cool, at least he was still sober. There was no air of aggression, no air of menace. Well, relatively no air of menace. This was a crappy part of town, and menace was its stock-in-trade.Storm told herself she had nothing to be afraid of; at least for now. So, she shrugged her shoulders to the man’s question. He was familiar a bit, but she was surely not going to ask him how he had known her name. She wasn’t interested in knowing that. She just want
The strange man sat back down, returned his motorcycle boots to the top of the desk, and laced his hands behind his head. “He will be here in a minute. Why are you looking for him though?” He asked.The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. Storm put that with his black hair, impossibly blue eyes, and exotic name. "You're Irish." She muttered, before she could stop herself.He smiled a smile that could melt a woman at ten paces. "And who else would be running a pub?" He asked."But you don't own it." She stated, remembering that Mr. Tim was.“Perhaps.” He said with a shrug. “But I doubt that is the answer to my earlier question.”“I’m here to collect my pay. He had eaten at my step mum’s restaurant without paying up. She sent me to do the needful.” Storm replied, meeting the man’s gaze steadily.“I see. How much is that?” The man asked.His voice went frosty, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out. “Four hundred dolls.” Storm replied, and the man’s eyes narrowed, pupils
From this angle, staring at the man’s face as he ran his eyes through the bar, Storm thought that he looked like the legendary Zofan hated the thought of using the guardian sword. His primary job was to be called in when there was no longer any hope, and that fact put a dark edge to his entire life. Not many people saw this, but she had noticed, as she had gone through the book.Storm was close enough now to the man to sense his muscles relax as people assured him, they were all right. The people climbed slowly to their feet, shaken, but there was no one dead or wounded. They'd been lucky.The floor was littered with glass and splintered wood, the smell of spilled alcohol was sharp, and bullet holes riddled the dark walls. Half the bottles and glasses behind the bar had been destroyed, and the one of the bartenders crawled shakily out from under a table.A man zoomed in through the front door and stopped by a clump of people not yet brave enough to get up. Storm didn’t know who he was
Lent dropped obediently, and the flimsy chair creaked under his weight. Lent was large and hard-muscled, his short but shaggy black hair looked uncombed. He didn't have an ounce of fat on him. Storm wasn't used to seeing as men as hot as this, having never really met one on her side of the town, except for her ex, who had left her to pursue his basketball career at a university, thousands of miles away from her.Curtis had been her high school sweetheart whom she could do anything, totally anything, even if included her right kidney. He had been a home of comfort to her whenever her step mother and step sister decided to turn on their devilish mode and wreak havoc on both her physical and mental state. Curtis had been her lifeline. He had transferred to their school in their eleventh grade, and they had hit off immediately. An act which was obvious to everyone since Curtis was the new hot male student and she was the most beautiful girl in their class, had been voted that way since