Read Online Creature of Habit (Book 3) by Angel Lawson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Angel Lawson
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lips, whispering, "I love you."
"I love you, too," I said in return, looping my fingers around his back.
He kissed me again under my ear, sucking gently on the pulse point, making my knees weak. I lifted my head to return the gesture, but he was gone.
~*~
"So, Amelia," Adam began from across the room, "I never did ask you, how you ended up with a blood sucking creature of the night, anyway?"
I was on the couch, legs crossed, letting the computer burn a hole in my thigh as I searched for southern debutantes from the beginning of the century, with a focus on the New Orleans area. I'd just found an archive by the Daughters of the Revolutionary War, a civic group that had been collecting photos and information and recording it on their website. Currently I was looking for any participants with the name Olivia and the letter 'A' as a last name.
I rolled my eyes at the man who had been attempting to lure me into conversation for over an hour. Nothing was off limits for Adam. Any good behavior he’d exhibited the last time we were together was gone.
He had already told me how the house reeked, offending his superior sense of smell, how the Palmers were evil, and how my relationship with Grant was a sin against nature. I'd ignored him for the most part, treating him as the four-year-old he was acting like, and continued with my work. Unfortunately, like an actual four-year-old, he wanted constant attention.
Without looking up, I said, "He's hot. And rich. And he's a little like Batman-what's not to like?"
"Ha. Ha. Amelia Chase. Even I can tell there's more to you than a gold digging skank, but tell me, why would you want that?" I could hear the hatred in his voice. I tried not to be offended. They were natural enemies, like a zebra to a lion, but still he needed to shut his mouth.
I kept my fingers on the keys, trying to control the rage boiling under my skin. I found a photo from 1927, our target year, and pulled it up, dragging the mouse to enlarge it. "I don't have to explain myself to you. Shut. Up. I'm trying to work over here."
Focusing back on the screen I heard him get up off the couch and shuffle toward the window. David had been quiet, shifting into a sleek, red fox the instant the Palmers left. Every ten minutes or so his fluffy tail made an appearance in the wide picture window.
Adam walked back over and his weight hit the couch, bouncing me and the computer off the cushion as he landed heavily. Suddenly, I missed the grace and quiet of the vampires.
"What are you doing anyway?" he asked, tilting the screen so he could see it, completely invading my personal space. My temper flared and I knocked his hand off, shifting the monitor back in my direction. Had his mother had taught him any manners at all?
"Dude, look at that dress. Some of these girls are smokin'," he declared and pulled the laptop off my legs. He placed it on his own tree-like appendages that took up the whole couch and half the floor. I half-listened as Adam mocked the girls and boys in the photograph, laughing at their hair and outfits. He began reading the information out loud in a phony, sophisticated voice. "'The Daughters of the Revolutionary War are honored to announce the following young women and their escorts who will be debuting this season in New Orleans.'"
I grabbed the computer back, placing it on my lap but leaving it so he could continue to see it. I ran my finger over it, matching the names with the faces, looking for any 'A' names to add to my list.
"Lucia Atkinson," he announced as my finger touched over a petite blonde with curly, shoulder length hair. I shifted my finger to the next girl on the row. "Sarah Olivia Auclair." I paused and looked at the photo closer. It was grainy and faded, but I could make out a tall girl with long dark hair; she barely looked fifteen. My spine tingled.
"Adam, wait here," I said, and pushed the computer in his lap. I ran around the corner into the kitchen to the small room off the
"I love you, too," I said in return, looping my fingers around his back.
He kissed me again under my ear, sucking gently on the pulse point, making my knees weak. I lifted my head to return the gesture, but he was gone.
~*~
"So, Amelia," Adam began from across the room, "I never did ask you, how you ended up with a blood sucking creature of the night, anyway?"
I was on the couch, legs crossed, letting the computer burn a hole in my thigh as I searched for southern debutantes from the beginning of the century, with a focus on the New Orleans area. I'd just found an archive by the Daughters of the Revolutionary War, a civic group that had been collecting photos and information and recording it on their website. Currently I was looking for any participants with the name Olivia and the letter 'A' as a last name.
I rolled my eyes at the man who had been attempting to lure me into conversation for over an hour. Nothing was off limits for Adam. Any good behavior he’d exhibited the last time we were together was gone.
He had already told me how the house reeked, offending his superior sense of smell, how the Palmers were evil, and how my relationship with Grant was a sin against nature. I'd ignored him for the most part, treating him as the four-year-old he was acting like, and continued with my work. Unfortunately, like an actual four-year-old, he wanted constant attention.
Without looking up, I said, "He's hot. And rich. And he's a little like Batman-what's not to like?"
"Ha. Ha. Amelia Chase. Even I can tell there's more to you than a gold digging skank, but tell me, why would you want that?" I could hear the hatred in his voice. I tried not to be offended. They were natural enemies, like a zebra to a lion, but still he needed to shut his mouth.
I kept my fingers on the keys, trying to control the rage boiling under my skin. I found a photo from 1927, our target year, and pulled it up, dragging the mouse to enlarge it. "I don't have to explain myself to you. Shut. Up. I'm trying to work over here."
Focusing back on the screen I heard him get up off the couch and shuffle toward the window. David had been quiet, shifting into a sleek, red fox the instant the Palmers left. Every ten minutes or so his fluffy tail made an appearance in the wide picture window.
Adam walked back over and his weight hit the couch, bouncing me and the computer off the cushion as he landed heavily. Suddenly, I missed the grace and quiet of the vampires.
"What are you doing anyway?" he asked, tilting the screen so he could see it, completely invading my personal space. My temper flared and I knocked his hand off, shifting the monitor back in my direction. Had his mother had taught him any manners at all?
"Dude, look at that dress. Some of these girls are smokin'," he declared and pulled the laptop off my legs. He placed it on his own tree-like appendages that took up the whole couch and half the floor. I half-listened as Adam mocked the girls and boys in the photograph, laughing at their hair and outfits. He began reading the information out loud in a phony, sophisticated voice. "'The Daughters of the Revolutionary War are honored to announce the following young women and their escorts who will be debuting this season in New Orleans.'"
I grabbed the computer back, placing it on my lap but leaving it so he could continue to see it. I ran my finger over it, matching the names with the faces, looking for any 'A' names to add to my list.
"Lucia Atkinson," he announced as my finger touched over a petite blonde with curly, shoulder length hair. I shifted my finger to the next girl on the row. "Sarah Olivia Auclair." I paused and looked at the photo closer. It was grainy and faded, but I could make out a tall girl with long dark hair; she barely looked fifteen. My spine tingled.
"Adam, wait here," I said, and pushed the computer in his lap. I ran around the corner into the kitchen to the small room off the
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