Read Blood Promise (A SkinWalker Novel #4) (A DarkWorld SkinWalker Novel) for Free Online Page A

footsteps.
    I shook my head and reached for the can of English Breakfast tea leaves. No. Omega was under investigation. Sentinel was doing the investigating. Now wasn't the time to take a position with Sentinel. The last thing I needed was to be tasked with tossing Logan and his friend out on their butts.
    The Elite Corps was looking better every day.
    I grinned as I spooned tea into the teapot and covered it with boiling water.
    Butts or arses, everyone's behinds were on the line.

CHAPTER 7

    I' D JUST PLACED THE TEACUPS on the dining table when Grams exited the bedroom, her pale skin pink from the heat of the shower and her white blonde hair curling at her temples. The fact she was wearing her gray sweatpants and hoodie was a comfort. It meant she was home for the evening.
    "Kailin, dear." She reached out and pulled me close and into a tight squeeze. Grams was a hugger and I didn't mind at all. "You look tired," she said against my cheek.
    I nodded as I disengaged from her arms and reached for the bread and cheese. Setting the plate on the table, I made a face. "Sorry. I didn't have anything else in the fridge for dinner. Been in Scotland."
    Grams laughed, her face brightening as she shook her head at me. "You forget, I have my spies."
    I snorted and pushed the sugar bowl toward her. "Of course, you do."
    "Was that Cassandra?" she asked as I handed her a spoon.
    "Perceptive of you."
    "She has a particular way of forming her vowels and consonants."  
    Yeah, that and the fact that Gram's panther nose worked just as well as mine.
    I rolled my eyes. "Gee, Grams. Speak straight. I'm not old enough for old-people-speak."
    "Watch it, young lady," She gave me a mock glare and then lifted her cup to blow lightly on the steaming surface. She took a sip. "This is good. Hits the spot."
    It certainly did. I drank deeply, enjoying the sweet warmth as it slid down my throat. All that time in England and not a drop of tea to drink.
    Then again, was Scotland part of England?
    I frowned, then sat back noticing that my fingers were still gritty with vamp residue. "I need to be clean. Demon blood gets into all the wrong cracks and crevices."
    I felt a little guilty gulping down the food, but the longer I sat there the more time I spent wondering if I was giving off any kind of demon stink.
    When Grams sniffed the air and twitched her nose, I grunted, swallowed the last of my tea in one long gulp and stalked off to my room.
    Her snickering followed me all the way into my bathroom.

    Fifteen minutes later I padded out of the bathroom in bare feet. I was clean. My hair was clean. I was wearing my 'at home relaxing' sweatpants and hoodie. Could the night get any better?
    I looked up and stopped in my tracks. No. But apparently the night could get worse.
    Gram was busy running a pale pink lipstick over her lips as she peered into the mirror we'd hung on the wall behind our front door. No longer in her comfortable clothes, she was dressed in a dark green skirt suit. A pair of black heels sat neatly beside the door.
    "What . . ." I trailed off as Corin Odel, dressed in a dark gray suit, rose from the sofa with an equally dark look on his face.
    "It wasn't me, Dad."
    The words fell out of my mouth, but when a smile broke through the shadows in my father's eyes I was glad of my inability to hold my tongue.
    I went to him, received his hug, gave him mine. "What's wrong?"
    "Get dressed."
    Not a night at home then. "Don't tell me . . . High Council meeting."
    "I raised a smart girl," he murmured as his phone beeped. "So proud."  
    That earned him one of my dark glares but as he was busy swiping his screen and answering his phone it was totally wasted.  
    I spun on my heel and headed back to my room to change. A few minutes later I returned wearing a deep burgundy skirt suit, carrying black pumps in one hand and running the fingers of my free hand through the mess that was my hair.
    As black as Mom's, it was as unruly as hers if I didn't blow dry it