Read Online Kindred by J. A. Redmerski - Free Book Online

downward at the table, but then he raises his hooded eyes to look at me.
    “You mean since we’ve been together?”
    I smirk at him, trying not to let him disarm me with that sexy grin playing provocatively on his lips.
    “Yes, Isaac,” I say, “since we’ve been together.”
    Damnit! I have absolutely no willpower when he does that! He lets the guileful smile heat up even more around his eyes. I have been disarmed.
    “ Isaac? ” I say, crossing my arms and trying to gain some of my ground back.
    “A few times,” he answers. “A couple of weeks ago while you were at school, a pack came up from Vermont—they were friends also—and before that, the famous Choi brothers, Hyun, Hyo and Ki.”
    I look at him warily. “And were they friends?”
    Isaac scowls. “Not so much,” he admits, “but we beat them and they respect us for it.”
    Well, that was good to know, but he’s still not off the hook here.
    “And before the snow melted,” he continues, “a pack came all the way from Washington.”
    I get the feeling they weren’t friends either and that maybe this challenge didn’t end as smoothly. My eyes get narrower as I wait for him to tell me.
    “Yeah, I could’ve done without that fight,” he says. “Remember when Nathan was out of commission for two days?”
    “Yeah.”
    Isaac shakes his head and lets out a deep breath. “He was messed up pretty bad; the Alpha broke his back.”
    I wince.
    “And he still didn’t lose?” I could hardly believe it.
    “Nope,” he says. “Nathan has never lost a challenge.”
    “What about you?”
    “Technically, I’ve never officially been challenged—Nathan’s closer to Alpha than I am,” he says. “But I’ve never lost a fight.” He puts up a finger and backtracks. “No, I take that back. I did lose to Atma Sahni, though he fights dirty and most don’t acknowledge that he beat me.”
    “But you do?”
    “Yeah,” Isaac admits. “Atma’s a badass and I respect him. He may fight dirty, but I think you have to be able to counter anything, no matter how dirty.”
    I admire Isaac’s admission.
    “What did he do that was so dirty?”
    Isaac’s shoulders bounce gently with soft laughter.
    “He attacked me in my sleep.”
    My mouth falls open. “ Seriously? ” I smack my palm against the table. “Was he a rogue?”
    “No,” Isaac unwraps a little complimentary peppermint and pops it in his mouth, “he just fights dirty, is all.”
    “Why are you smiling about it?”
    I don’t realize until after I ask the question that I’m sort of smiling too.
    “Just thinking about it.” He pulls the neck of his shirt down to show me the deep scar I’ve always known was there, cut across his jugular. “He cut my damn throat,” he whispers.
    “And that’s funny ?” I’m not smiling anymore. Actually, I’m kind of pissed that he finds this at all humorous.
    “Baby, you know it takes more than that to kill one of us,” he says, softening his expression to comfort me. “But you’re right; I shouldn’t talk about it that way with you. I know it hurts you.”
    “Yes. It does,” I say matter-of-factly.
    A woman and her small son walk past and sit at the booth behind us. Shortly after, two more families fill the empty tables nearby. The faint chatter of voices I’m used to hearing gradually becomes more evident as more and more conversations rise up all around us. I find myself lowering my own voice as if my simple everyday conversation with Isaac—though really it’s not that simple and everyday—will give his secret away. I do that a lot when out with him anywhere. It never matters where. It doesn’t seem to make any difference that Isaac looks perfectly human and that only I know him for what he truly is. I will always look over my shoulder, mind carefully what I say in public and sometimes even sweat a little when someone gets too close, as if they’ll be able to detect the faintest difference in him.
    It’s absurd, but it comes with the