Read Guarding Grayson for Free Online Page B

Gray said. He rose and grabbed a tall glass cylinder from the cupboard, held it under a metal tube to fill it with clear water and handed it to her. "Here. Drink up."
    She eyed the glass, then his beer, then began to tip the glass up the way he had the bottle.
    "No!" Gray reached forward in warning. "You'll spill it all over yourself."
    But E'ea used centrifugal energy to spin the water out in a slender stream, and into Brynne's waiting mouth. She swallowed several times, and then set the glass down, sighing. "Ah, that is better. Brynne's body feels satisfied for the moment."
    She looked around the kitchen, scanning the equipment, storage space, available places to shelter, and the danger zones such as thin brittle windows, easily opened door and sharp objects. "Nutritional preparation requires a great deal of effort for your people, as well as storage space. Do you procure food materials daily?"
    Gray set the empty enchilada container on the table and shoved back his hair, which hung to his collar in blond disarray. "Not every day. I'll need to shop tomorrow."
    She nodded. "Ah, you will gather your food staples from a storage facility?"
    "Grocery store." He drained his beer, and then crossed his arms and regarded her.
    "I will accompany you." Numerous other humans would no doubt be present. The assassin could disguise as one of them.
    Gray gave her a look. "Not unless you've got a suitcase or two out on the porch. You can't go out in public wearing just my shirts. And with your hair all..." He twirled his fingers next to his own head, grimacing at Brynne's hair, which was now cleaner, but still not in its normal state. "What happened, they toss you in the weeds, or something?"
    It was true, E'ea was uncertain she would be able to cleanse the detritus from Brynne's hair, even with repeated washings.
    But he was asking for more crucial information. "Grayson, are you certain you want to know the details of Brynne’s fate?"
    He scowled at her. "Of course I want to know. I thought you were dead . Ever since that night I've believed you drove your car off the road at Dead Drop cliff and into the lake. Too deep to get down and there and pull you and your car out—but the marks were there where a car went over—not to mention your bumper laying there on the verge, so we all knew you went in there."
    He closed his eyes, shaking his head, and made a visible effort to calm himself. "Just ... tell me what you did. And why you'd let me—and everyone else—believe you were dead."
    "Very well. I will show you. Not here, though. Let us move to your soft-surfaced furnishings."
    "You mean the sitting room? Why?"
    "So that if you become faint, your skull will not strike the hard surface of your kitchen floor. That might cause an injury to you, and I am already quite occupied healing Brynne's body. I do not wish to add healing you to my task. It may consume more energy than I can spare." Especially with a battle coming.
    Gray shook his head. “I’m not gonna faint. Not some fragile emo dude.”
    “Nevertheless.”
    He followed her into the sitting room, and sat where she gestured, on his Gran's sofa, a faded, burgundy apparatus that sagged in the middle. When E'ea perched beside him, she had to balance to keep from tipping into his lap. Gray leaned back and waited, his cynical look saying he expected her to speak again, and that he would not believe her.
    Thus, she must do more than speak. She tucked her rapidly drying hair behind one delicate ear and looked him in the eyes. "Gray-son, Brynne is resting. She will remain so until I have ascertained she is healed enough to wake. But I have accessed all her memories. Now, instead of attempting to convince you any longer, I will take you into her memories of the night she died."
    He looked even more skeptical. "Really? And how're you gonna do that?"
    "Like this, Gray-son."
    Reaching out slowly, she placed one of Brynne's slim hands on his forehead, palm flat. Under the hot, silky layer of