Read Online Love at First Bite by Susan Squires - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Squires
Tags: Fiction, General, Erótica, Romance, Fantasy, Contemporary, Paranormal, Short Stories, Love Stories, American, supernatural, Vampires, Paranormal Fiction
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the nightly conflict began, but often the battle came to them before they were ready, with so many of Asharti's minions about. After the battle, they were in no condition to find what they needed. They'd gone without last night. With no blood, how would they keep their strength up?
Rufford backed against a wall at the corner of the boulevard and peered around. Suddenly he straightened. "Well, Ware, do you happen to have a relative named Davie?"
Davie gave a start. "It's Vernon Davis Ware," he said in a low voice. "My family and oldest friends called me Davie." Why had Rufford grown curious now?
Rufford simply pointed. Davie peered into the night. A canvas was tacked to a building across the alleyway at the other corner of the intersection. On it was written, clearly, in charcoal or some such, "Davie Ware. I'm at the Prince Hotel."
Davie was drawn across the alley, enthralled. Who knew him as Davie that might be here in Casablanca? And what was that stuck over the nail that held the canvas?
God! It was a lock of yellow hair, bound by a strip of ribbon.
He turned on Rufford. "Miss Fairfield!"
The scent of cinnamon wafted down the boulevard. "They come," Fedeyah said. Davie drew his sword. Damn!
"Get to the Prince Hotel," Rufford said through gritted teeth.
"I won't leave you two to face them." Shadows drifted out onto the boulevard.
"Think, man! You can't leave her alone in Casablanca now."
Davie counted. Eight? His gut twisted. Rufford was right, but his duty was here. "Why did she come?" he muttered.
"You have to ask?" Rufford's grin was wicked. He motioned with his head. "Lucky dog. Get out of here."
"Four to one," Davie warned.
"We've had worse." When Davie still hesitated, Rufford lifted his brows. "I've got Old blood in my veins, man."
Davie took a breath of night air, redolent with jasmine and ominous with cinnamon. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"You'll never find us. We'll use the hotel as our safe house." Rufford drew his sword as he scanned the street. "Protect her. We'll see you at dawn."
Davie took off at a run for the waterfront.
Chapter Five
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Emma sat, quiet for the first time in days, and looked out on the night from her small balcony. It wasn't that she wasn't frightened.
She was. But there was nothing more to be done. She had posted her signs all over the city this afternoon even as the teeming hordes left town. The harbor was empty. The last ship had sailed on the evening tide. From where she sat she could see several fires burning in the town, but the looting now seemed sporadic. She had gathered lamps from several other rooms to be sure she had enough oil, and locked her door. She was going to sit here day and night with a light burning like a beacon until Davie came for her. She wouldn't let herself think of how angry he would be that she was here or that he might not even be in the city to see her signs. Every piece of common sense said this would work out badly. So she resolved not to listen to her common sense.
The hotel was quiet behind her. The shouting in the streets had grown distant. So she clearly heard the pounding of boot heels taking the stairs up from the lobby two at a time. Her heart leaped into her throat. She would be raped and killed in the next minutes, or…
She looked to the door. He burst through it as though it were made of paper, lock and all. "Davie!" She ran to him without thinking, relief flooding her. The door twisted into the room on broken hinges. He took her in an embrace that was like to break her ribs. She didn't care.
"Emma!" he said into her hair. "Emma, what are you doing here? This is no place for a woman." But the chastising nature of the words was lost in his lips moving through her hair, his breath warm. He was wearing only a shirt open at the collar and trousers and boots. He hadn't shaved in several days, but that didn't make him seem unkempt, only rugged and more male than she remembered. She had never seen him without
Rufford backed against a wall at the corner of the boulevard and peered around. Suddenly he straightened. "Well, Ware, do you happen to have a relative named Davie?"
Davie gave a start. "It's Vernon Davis Ware," he said in a low voice. "My family and oldest friends called me Davie." Why had Rufford grown curious now?
Rufford simply pointed. Davie peered into the night. A canvas was tacked to a building across the alleyway at the other corner of the intersection. On it was written, clearly, in charcoal or some such, "Davie Ware. I'm at the Prince Hotel."
Davie was drawn across the alley, enthralled. Who knew him as Davie that might be here in Casablanca? And what was that stuck over the nail that held the canvas?
God! It was a lock of yellow hair, bound by a strip of ribbon.
He turned on Rufford. "Miss Fairfield!"
The scent of cinnamon wafted down the boulevard. "They come," Fedeyah said. Davie drew his sword. Damn!
"Get to the Prince Hotel," Rufford said through gritted teeth.
"I won't leave you two to face them." Shadows drifted out onto the boulevard.
"Think, man! You can't leave her alone in Casablanca now."
Davie counted. Eight? His gut twisted. Rufford was right, but his duty was here. "Why did she come?" he muttered.
"You have to ask?" Rufford's grin was wicked. He motioned with his head. "Lucky dog. Get out of here."
"Four to one," Davie warned.
"We've had worse." When Davie still hesitated, Rufford lifted his brows. "I've got Old blood in my veins, man."
Davie took a breath of night air, redolent with jasmine and ominous with cinnamon. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"You'll never find us. We'll use the hotel as our safe house." Rufford drew his sword as he scanned the street. "Protect her. We'll see you at dawn."
Davie took off at a run for the waterfront.
Chapter Five
Previous
Top
Next
Emma sat, quiet for the first time in days, and looked out on the night from her small balcony. It wasn't that she wasn't frightened.
She was. But there was nothing more to be done. She had posted her signs all over the city this afternoon even as the teeming hordes left town. The harbor was empty. The last ship had sailed on the evening tide. From where she sat she could see several fires burning in the town, but the looting now seemed sporadic. She had gathered lamps from several other rooms to be sure she had enough oil, and locked her door. She was going to sit here day and night with a light burning like a beacon until Davie came for her. She wouldn't let herself think of how angry he would be that she was here or that he might not even be in the city to see her signs. Every piece of common sense said this would work out badly. So she resolved not to listen to her common sense.
The hotel was quiet behind her. The shouting in the streets had grown distant. So she clearly heard the pounding of boot heels taking the stairs up from the lobby two at a time. Her heart leaped into her throat. She would be raped and killed in the next minutes, or…
She looked to the door. He burst through it as though it were made of paper, lock and all. "Davie!" She ran to him without thinking, relief flooding her. The door twisted into the room on broken hinges. He took her in an embrace that was like to break her ribs. She didn't care.
"Emma!" he said into her hair. "Emma, what are you doing here? This is no place for a woman." But the chastising nature of the words was lost in his lips moving through her hair, his breath warm. He was wearing only a shirt open at the collar and trousers and boots. He hadn't shaved in several days, but that didn't make him seem unkempt, only rugged and more male than she remembered. She had never seen him without
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