Read Where Dark Collides: Part 1 (Shades of Dark) for Free Online
Authors: Claire Robyns
moment. “Okay,” she sighed. “At least Kial’s next door.”
“Now that’s a good omen?”
She threw me a scowl. “You know, maybe I’m wrong and he’s not madly in love with you,” she said, walking again. “Maybe he took one look at you and knew he’d need to stick around to save your ass one day.”
“Hey, I don’t need ass-saving,” I called after, too late to recall when I realised my front door had just swung open.
“I’ve wasted my morning waiting for the window company to show up so you could go shopping.” Kial stood there, a lazy grin kicking in, the ice in his blue eyes melting with humour. “I’d call that ass-saving.”
How much had he heard?
Beth shot her eyes skyward, apparently done with this conversation, and pushed past him to go inside.
“Have you heard from them?” I asked Kial.
“They’re on their way,” he said. “But don’t hold your breath, that was an hour ago.”
I touched his arm as I passed, thanking him with a smile. “I really appreciate you hanging around here.”
“No problem.”
I paused in the hallway, preparing to broach the subject of Demor panthers while he closed the door, my gaze unintentionally searching for the details Beth insisted I’d missed.
Kial was tall, a couple of inches over six feet, toned with lean muscle that graced deadly skill. I’ve watched him fight; hand-to-hand combat with a Demor. His white T-Shirt rippled down the lines of his torso to just below the hip, his jeans worn-through to fit his thighs without being too snug.
Long fingers pushed through his dark blonde hair as he turned to me, his eyes still warm, friendly, his narrow face sculpted with the kind of symmetry that knocked handsome into the ballpark of devastatingly, hauntingly sexy.
I don’t know; maybe if he weren’t my cousin, however many times removed, I’d burn into his touch instead of using those broad shoulders for comfort.
But he was.
Maybe if he ever turned an ounce of charm on me, my knees would buckle and I’d be lost.
But he hadn’t.
A smile tipped his mouth, teasing, challenging. “What?”
Not a flirtatious innuendo on the horizon.
I shook my head, returning the smile for a moment, then grew serious. “Have you heard anything about Demors shape shifting again?”
“Panther form?” He prodded me in the back to start walking. “They were stripped—”
“—after The Terror, yes I know.” The perfect opportunity for his hand to linger in a sensual caress, or just linger, But no, he prodded. Beth was so wrong, it was laughable. “But have there been any rumours, reported sightings, anything like that?”
He looked at me, his eyes creasing. “What’s going on?”
I guess that meant no.
“I have to show you something. Beth…?” I called out.
“In here!” Her voice led us to the kitchen.
She was bent over the sink, sleeve pushed up, her arm under the running water.
I didn’t think the scars would scrub away, but I’d be doing the same in her position.
Tossing my bag near Beth’s pile on the pine table, I slumped onto one of the rickety chairs around the table and waved Kial in her direction. “Take a look at Beth’s arm.”
He crossed the kitchen in slow strides.
When he reached her, Beth turned off the faucet and flipped her arm over under his nose.
He grabbed her wrist, pushing her arm back to a distance he could look at without going cross-eyed. “A cat?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he put two and two together. It was there in the sudden tension at his jaw. The grit underlying his tone. “How long ago?”
“Fifteen…twenty minutes,” I said, although I wasn’t sure why it mattered. Beth’s arm had healed. The problem was the scars.
Kial took another close look before dropping Beth’s arm.
His gaze shot to me. “You saw it?”
“We both did.” I watched his face register the unthinkable, cold hard truth. But not that unthinkable or unimaginable, clearly, since we were all thinking
“Now that’s a good omen?”
She threw me a scowl. “You know, maybe I’m wrong and he’s not madly in love with you,” she said, walking again. “Maybe he took one look at you and knew he’d need to stick around to save your ass one day.”
“Hey, I don’t need ass-saving,” I called after, too late to recall when I realised my front door had just swung open.
“I’ve wasted my morning waiting for the window company to show up so you could go shopping.” Kial stood there, a lazy grin kicking in, the ice in his blue eyes melting with humour. “I’d call that ass-saving.”
How much had he heard?
Beth shot her eyes skyward, apparently done with this conversation, and pushed past him to go inside.
“Have you heard from them?” I asked Kial.
“They’re on their way,” he said. “But don’t hold your breath, that was an hour ago.”
I touched his arm as I passed, thanking him with a smile. “I really appreciate you hanging around here.”
“No problem.”
I paused in the hallway, preparing to broach the subject of Demor panthers while he closed the door, my gaze unintentionally searching for the details Beth insisted I’d missed.
Kial was tall, a couple of inches over six feet, toned with lean muscle that graced deadly skill. I’ve watched him fight; hand-to-hand combat with a Demor. His white T-Shirt rippled down the lines of his torso to just below the hip, his jeans worn-through to fit his thighs without being too snug.
Long fingers pushed through his dark blonde hair as he turned to me, his eyes still warm, friendly, his narrow face sculpted with the kind of symmetry that knocked handsome into the ballpark of devastatingly, hauntingly sexy.
I don’t know; maybe if he weren’t my cousin, however many times removed, I’d burn into his touch instead of using those broad shoulders for comfort.
But he was.
Maybe if he ever turned an ounce of charm on me, my knees would buckle and I’d be lost.
But he hadn’t.
A smile tipped his mouth, teasing, challenging. “What?”
Not a flirtatious innuendo on the horizon.
I shook my head, returning the smile for a moment, then grew serious. “Have you heard anything about Demors shape shifting again?”
“Panther form?” He prodded me in the back to start walking. “They were stripped—”
“—after The Terror, yes I know.” The perfect opportunity for his hand to linger in a sensual caress, or just linger, But no, he prodded. Beth was so wrong, it was laughable. “But have there been any rumours, reported sightings, anything like that?”
He looked at me, his eyes creasing. “What’s going on?”
I guess that meant no.
“I have to show you something. Beth…?” I called out.
“In here!” Her voice led us to the kitchen.
She was bent over the sink, sleeve pushed up, her arm under the running water.
I didn’t think the scars would scrub away, but I’d be doing the same in her position.
Tossing my bag near Beth’s pile on the pine table, I slumped onto one of the rickety chairs around the table and waved Kial in her direction. “Take a look at Beth’s arm.”
He crossed the kitchen in slow strides.
When he reached her, Beth turned off the faucet and flipped her arm over under his nose.
He grabbed her wrist, pushing her arm back to a distance he could look at without going cross-eyed. “A cat?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he put two and two together. It was there in the sudden tension at his jaw. The grit underlying his tone. “How long ago?”
“Fifteen…twenty minutes,” I said, although I wasn’t sure why it mattered. Beth’s arm had healed. The problem was the scars.
Kial took another close look before dropping Beth’s arm.
His gaze shot to me. “You saw it?”
“We both did.” I watched his face register the unthinkable, cold hard truth. But not that unthinkable or unimaginable, clearly, since we were all thinking