Read Online Raven (Legends Saga Book 2) by Stacey Rourke - Free Book Online
Authors: Stacey Rourke
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the floor with a heavy thump. “Such a good lad,” he gushed, his icy hand clamping down on Edgar’s shoulder as he found himself momentarily free of his infinite loop.
“Is that all, Father?” Edgar asked as an involuntary shudder rocked through him.
“Almost.” The flask disappeared into the top drawer of John’s desk. “There is one more thing. I want you to reconsider my offer for you to join me here at the tobacco company. I have a position in mind for you.”
“Father, I do not think it—”
John halted Edgar’s argument with one raised hand. “No need to rehash old arguments. I am well aware of your hesitations, which is why I want to show you we can work around them. Tonight I have a dinner planned with a potential client. He is a family man, therefore it would be very beneficial for us to present a united front. You and I can dine with him and his daughter. I believe her name is Lenore. What do you say, my boy? Will you dine with a lovely young Miss as a favor to your dear papa?”
7
Ridley
At some point Ireland’s enraptured draw to Ridley had faded to a moderately tolerable level. If she had to guess, she would blame the bus they hopped on, that reeked of body odor and stale beer, for killing the romanticism of encountering someone else cursed as she had been.
“The car was right there,” she grumbled, her fingers thumping against her satchel. “ Right at the curb. We actually passed it getting into this … rolling house of funk .”
“ That makes it sound bluesy,” Noah mused, then immediately raised his hands in retreat at Ireland’s murderous glare. “Hey, don’t blame me! You saw how fast Ridley darted on here. Our choices were jump on or lose him.”
Biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood, Ireland’s narrowed gaze flicked across the aisle to where Ridley sat. A tennis racquet—he’d made the point to grab before darting from the loft—laid across his lap, his finger tracing the lettering on its cover. The pretty, strawberry-blonde seated beside him, with freckles speckled across her pointy nose and the tops of her cheeks, scooted a little closer and crossed her legs in his direction.
“Do you play?” she asked, gesturing toward the racquet. Her full lips puckered in an obviously practiced pout as she thrust out her over-worked push-up bra.
Ireland tipped her face toward Noah’s shoulder to mumble, “Nope, carries it as a conversation starter.”
Noah’s chin fell to his chest . The blond strands that fell across his forehead did nothing to muffle his snort of laughter.
A third party , however, was less than amused by the harmless flirtin g . Call forth your sword ! the Hessian roared in his beastly tremor from within the confines of Ireland’s mind . Ram it through the strumpet’s skull. She is in no way deserving of the dark magnificence that lies within that being!
Someone has a cruuuush , Ireland thought back, playfully injecting the sing-song inflection.
Silence, you plague on my existence! If I could will your own hands to rip out your innards and rid me of your incessant torment, I would happily oblige.
Running her tongue over her top teeth, Ireland fished into the front pocket of her satchel to dig out her iPod. Keep talking, sweet-cheeks. It’ll make this that much more fun for me.
Do your worst, you petty wretch! This cage cannot hold me forever!
“Isn’t that the Carrie Underwood song about keying some cheating dude’s truck?” Noah asked, reading over her shoulder as she thumbed the selection from the menu.
“It is!” Ireland said, her wide smile dripping with mock innocence. “I thought maybe I could work on redirecting my creepy little friend’s anger issues.”
“ Only in this group is vandalism considered an improvement.” Rip—seated on Noah’s other side—shook his head, his finger twirling and knotting the end of his beard.
Clicking the song on, Ireland settled back into her hard plastic
“Is that all, Father?” Edgar asked as an involuntary shudder rocked through him.
“Almost.” The flask disappeared into the top drawer of John’s desk. “There is one more thing. I want you to reconsider my offer for you to join me here at the tobacco company. I have a position in mind for you.”
“Father, I do not think it—”
John halted Edgar’s argument with one raised hand. “No need to rehash old arguments. I am well aware of your hesitations, which is why I want to show you we can work around them. Tonight I have a dinner planned with a potential client. He is a family man, therefore it would be very beneficial for us to present a united front. You and I can dine with him and his daughter. I believe her name is Lenore. What do you say, my boy? Will you dine with a lovely young Miss as a favor to your dear papa?”
7
Ridley
At some point Ireland’s enraptured draw to Ridley had faded to a moderately tolerable level. If she had to guess, she would blame the bus they hopped on, that reeked of body odor and stale beer, for killing the romanticism of encountering someone else cursed as she had been.
“The car was right there,” she grumbled, her fingers thumping against her satchel. “ Right at the curb. We actually passed it getting into this … rolling house of funk .”
“ That makes it sound bluesy,” Noah mused, then immediately raised his hands in retreat at Ireland’s murderous glare. “Hey, don’t blame me! You saw how fast Ridley darted on here. Our choices were jump on or lose him.”
Biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood, Ireland’s narrowed gaze flicked across the aisle to where Ridley sat. A tennis racquet—he’d made the point to grab before darting from the loft—laid across his lap, his finger tracing the lettering on its cover. The pretty, strawberry-blonde seated beside him, with freckles speckled across her pointy nose and the tops of her cheeks, scooted a little closer and crossed her legs in his direction.
“Do you play?” she asked, gesturing toward the racquet. Her full lips puckered in an obviously practiced pout as she thrust out her over-worked push-up bra.
Ireland tipped her face toward Noah’s shoulder to mumble, “Nope, carries it as a conversation starter.”
Noah’s chin fell to his chest . The blond strands that fell across his forehead did nothing to muffle his snort of laughter.
A third party , however, was less than amused by the harmless flirtin g . Call forth your sword ! the Hessian roared in his beastly tremor from within the confines of Ireland’s mind . Ram it through the strumpet’s skull. She is in no way deserving of the dark magnificence that lies within that being!
Someone has a cruuuush , Ireland thought back, playfully injecting the sing-song inflection.
Silence, you plague on my existence! If I could will your own hands to rip out your innards and rid me of your incessant torment, I would happily oblige.
Running her tongue over her top teeth, Ireland fished into the front pocket of her satchel to dig out her iPod. Keep talking, sweet-cheeks. It’ll make this that much more fun for me.
Do your worst, you petty wretch! This cage cannot hold me forever!
“Isn’t that the Carrie Underwood song about keying some cheating dude’s truck?” Noah asked, reading over her shoulder as she thumbed the selection from the menu.
“It is!” Ireland said, her wide smile dripping with mock innocence. “I thought maybe I could work on redirecting my creepy little friend’s anger issues.”
“ Only in this group is vandalism considered an improvement.” Rip—seated on Noah’s other side—shook his head, his finger twirling and knotting the end of his beard.
Clicking the song on, Ireland settled back into her hard plastic
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