Read Online Blood Ecstasy (Blood Curse Series Book 8) by Tessa Dawn - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tessa Dawn
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familiar imprint on the throw blanket she had donned.
He closed his eyes and tried to chill, taking a moment to think.
Nachari Silivasi’s memories, the time he had spent in the Abyss, had been sobering at the least; terrifying, without apology; and a major gut-check of the highest order. Julien didn’t know what he was doing, and he didn’t know what he wanted, going forward. But one thing was crystal clear: He didn’t want to end up there, in the Valley of Death and Shadows, not if he didn’t have to. Beyond that, he knew himself, at least peripherally: He knew why he took the H, he knew why he needed to be alone, and he knew that he could not function, or think, or reason when he was flying high. He was nothing but bare savage instincts, then—all his demons running loose—despite the fact that he was too zoned out to meet them.
But this?
Having his destiny here, hiding like a lost little lamb trying to avoid the slaughter, naked and afraid in his home? Running from the beast inside him?
Ah hell, this was beyond the pale.
Despite the fact that he was standing at a fork in the road—he could go left, he could go right, or he could just stand still—he needed to pull it together, if only for Rebecca, and show the female some warmth. Well, warmth was too strong of a word. He was still Julien Lacusta, after all. But he could at least show her some courtesy, let her know he wasn’t always a beast—he wasn’t always high—and offer her some basic consideration, perhaps a modicum of respect. More than that, he could at least try to get to know her, see what makes her tick. Maybe there was something she wanted, needed…desired…something he could give to her that she’d be willing to exchange for her required role in the Curse.
And didn’t that just sound effed up, any way you turned it?
He sighed. Ah hell, it was what it was .
He opened his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his face—damn, was this really happening, now ?
Yeah, it was.
It really, freakin’ was.
And he needed to mend some fences.
Pronto.
He paused about five feet from his destiny’s perch and tried mightily to gentle his voice: “Becca, come out from underneath the table, baby. We need to talk.”
She jerked,inhaled a harsh,shallow breath, and then she grew inhumanly still.
He took a couple of steps forward and squatted down to place a soft white terrycloth robe on the floor, and then he added a bottle of Perrier water and a tray filled with cheese and crackers to the mix— hell, it was the only food he kept in the house— he didn’t have that many human visitors. “Angel, I know you’ve got to be cold, and you haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you got here—you’re probably hungry.” And didn’t that just make him the ass of the year. He sighed in exasperation. “Look, I know exactly where you are, beneath the table, so there’s no point in continuing to hide. Why don’t you just come out, put on the robe, and have something to eat. At least have a drink of water, and I’ll back up, have a seat at the top of the stairs. Nothing confrontational, baby. Just you and me…talking.”
He backed away from the olive branch, such as it was, and waited.
When she still didn’t come out, he made his way to the top of the staircase and sat down with his back flush against the wall, his legs sprawled out in front of him, and his feet crossed at the ankles. “C’mon, baby,” he implored her again. “I am not going to hurt you, and I am not going to mess with your mind. I promise.”
Rebecca looked like an adorable little turtle, slowly peeking her head out from beneath the heavy table, and for the first time, Julien became aware of just how beautiful she truly was: Her golden brown hair was filled with soft,silkyS-curls that framed her gently rounded chin on the way to her slender shoulders. Her gorgeous, hooded eyes were nearly topaz in color, a rich smoky blue.
He closed his eyes and tried to chill, taking a moment to think.
Nachari Silivasi’s memories, the time he had spent in the Abyss, had been sobering at the least; terrifying, without apology; and a major gut-check of the highest order. Julien didn’t know what he was doing, and he didn’t know what he wanted, going forward. But one thing was crystal clear: He didn’t want to end up there, in the Valley of Death and Shadows, not if he didn’t have to. Beyond that, he knew himself, at least peripherally: He knew why he took the H, he knew why he needed to be alone, and he knew that he could not function, or think, or reason when he was flying high. He was nothing but bare savage instincts, then—all his demons running loose—despite the fact that he was too zoned out to meet them.
But this?
Having his destiny here, hiding like a lost little lamb trying to avoid the slaughter, naked and afraid in his home? Running from the beast inside him?
Ah hell, this was beyond the pale.
Despite the fact that he was standing at a fork in the road—he could go left, he could go right, or he could just stand still—he needed to pull it together, if only for Rebecca, and show the female some warmth. Well, warmth was too strong of a word. He was still Julien Lacusta, after all. But he could at least show her some courtesy, let her know he wasn’t always a beast—he wasn’t always high—and offer her some basic consideration, perhaps a modicum of respect. More than that, he could at least try to get to know her, see what makes her tick. Maybe there was something she wanted, needed…desired…something he could give to her that she’d be willing to exchange for her required role in the Curse.
And didn’t that just sound effed up, any way you turned it?
He sighed. Ah hell, it was what it was .
He opened his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his face—damn, was this really happening, now ?
Yeah, it was.
It really, freakin’ was.
And he needed to mend some fences.
Pronto.
He paused about five feet from his destiny’s perch and tried mightily to gentle his voice: “Becca, come out from underneath the table, baby. We need to talk.”
She jerked,inhaled a harsh,shallow breath, and then she grew inhumanly still.
He took a couple of steps forward and squatted down to place a soft white terrycloth robe on the floor, and then he added a bottle of Perrier water and a tray filled with cheese and crackers to the mix— hell, it was the only food he kept in the house— he didn’t have that many human visitors. “Angel, I know you’ve got to be cold, and you haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you got here—you’re probably hungry.” And didn’t that just make him the ass of the year. He sighed in exasperation. “Look, I know exactly where you are, beneath the table, so there’s no point in continuing to hide. Why don’t you just come out, put on the robe, and have something to eat. At least have a drink of water, and I’ll back up, have a seat at the top of the stairs. Nothing confrontational, baby. Just you and me…talking.”
He backed away from the olive branch, such as it was, and waited.
When she still didn’t come out, he made his way to the top of the staircase and sat down with his back flush against the wall, his legs sprawled out in front of him, and his feet crossed at the ankles. “C’mon, baby,” he implored her again. “I am not going to hurt you, and I am not going to mess with your mind. I promise.”
Rebecca looked like an adorable little turtle, slowly peeking her head out from beneath the heavy table, and for the first time, Julien became aware of just how beautiful she truly was: Her golden brown hair was filled with soft,silkyS-curls that framed her gently rounded chin on the way to her slender shoulders. Her gorgeous, hooded eyes were nearly topaz in color, a rich smoky blue.
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