Read Online Raven (Legends Saga Book 2) by Stacey Rourke - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stacey Rourke
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my sleep curse strikes, I will blend with all the other vagabonds slumbering on the sidewalks.”
She couldn’t have prevented it if she wanted to. Horns honking. Brakes squealing. Rip, halfway across the street, spinning at their high-pitched screech. Black clouds, reeking of burnt rubber, billow ing out from the tires of the fish-tailing full-sized pickup truck.
But the ugly truth was, part of her didn’t want to prevent it.
Ireland’s heart stuttered in her chest. Her breath coming in anxious pants as the bumper slammed into Rip’s knees, rolling him over the hood and shattering the windshield. She loved her friend, wished him no harm. Yet she couldn’t deny the fiery flush that tingled over her skin, sparking every nerve ending with violent delight. Her mouth watered at the blood that gurgled over his parted lips, staining his beard as it puddled beneath his head.
Her name formed on Noah’s lips as he darted between cars. The sound of his call drowned out by the deafening roar of her pulse pounding in her ears. Hooking his forearms under Rip’s arms, Noah eased the injured man from the hood and immediately began CPR.
Such a good boy.
Working so hard.
Completely oblivious to the truck door opening, or the hooded figure that emerged. Thick weave fabric, so eerily familiar, brushed against the driver’s calves as they rounded the open door.
My cloak, Ireland’s muddled mind managed to form the thought only to lose it to the tight fist of fear that constricted her throat.
Her gaze locked, transfixed, on the narrow, female hands that rose to grasp the hood’s edge. Vertigo pinched her reality, stretching it out wide, before snapping it back with dizzying force. The earth itself seemed to buck beneath her, her knees threatening to give.
The face beneath the hood glaring back at her … was her own.
“You are death ,” her doppelgänger purred through blue-kissed lips. The black, scrolled veins visible beneath her skin moving and shifting like living artwork.
“I am not.” Ireland’s nostrils flared, her palms itching to call for the reassurance of her weapons. “You are the monster.”
“You’d love to think that , wouldn’t you?” Her darker self turned away, a prowling panther not the least bit concerned by the quaking antelope before it, and sauntered to Noah’s side.
Flaxen hair fell into his eyes as he glanced up at her … and froze. His life saving task all but forgotten. One seductive curl of her finger was all the motivation he needed to raise to his feet. Truly a man bewitched, who refused to allow even a blink to break his enraptured stare.
“You are me, and I you.” Curling her fingers around the collar of his shirt, her Hessian counterpart pulled Noah’s body against her. Her lips teased over his, causing his entire frame to tremble at her touch. “We are the harbinger of death. Our very touch is as deadly as a blade when wielded properly.”
In a blur of speed, she stabbed her arm forward. A choked gasp ek ed past Noah’s slack jaw. His chin dropped to his chest, staring in bewildered astonishment at the hand buried wrist deep in his chest.
“I-Ireland?” he croaked , accusation and confusion gouging deep lines between his brows.
Sticky , wetness beneath her hand yanked Ireland’s head down sharp. Her cloak snapped out behind her in the night breeze, its familiar cadence welcoming her home. She had become the beast, Noah’s still beating heart pulsating in her grasp. She wanted to loosen her hold, to set him free. Even so, her murderous limb rose, holding the dying muscle up for him to see.
“Nothing to offer, but death.” Crimson streaks raced down her fingers, dripping from her palm as she dug her nails in deep … and squeezed.
“Ireland? The flashing, illuminated man means walk,” Noah patiently explained, gesturing to the street sign behind him. “Look, it’s even counting down for you! You now have 16 seconds to cross the street before
She couldn’t have prevented it if she wanted to. Horns honking. Brakes squealing. Rip, halfway across the street, spinning at their high-pitched screech. Black clouds, reeking of burnt rubber, billow ing out from the tires of the fish-tailing full-sized pickup truck.
But the ugly truth was, part of her didn’t want to prevent it.
Ireland’s heart stuttered in her chest. Her breath coming in anxious pants as the bumper slammed into Rip’s knees, rolling him over the hood and shattering the windshield. She loved her friend, wished him no harm. Yet she couldn’t deny the fiery flush that tingled over her skin, sparking every nerve ending with violent delight. Her mouth watered at the blood that gurgled over his parted lips, staining his beard as it puddled beneath his head.
Her name formed on Noah’s lips as he darted between cars. The sound of his call drowned out by the deafening roar of her pulse pounding in her ears. Hooking his forearms under Rip’s arms, Noah eased the injured man from the hood and immediately began CPR.
Such a good boy.
Working so hard.
Completely oblivious to the truck door opening, or the hooded figure that emerged. Thick weave fabric, so eerily familiar, brushed against the driver’s calves as they rounded the open door.
My cloak, Ireland’s muddled mind managed to form the thought only to lose it to the tight fist of fear that constricted her throat.
Her gaze locked, transfixed, on the narrow, female hands that rose to grasp the hood’s edge. Vertigo pinched her reality, stretching it out wide, before snapping it back with dizzying force. The earth itself seemed to buck beneath her, her knees threatening to give.
The face beneath the hood glaring back at her … was her own.
“You are death ,” her doppelgänger purred through blue-kissed lips. The black, scrolled veins visible beneath her skin moving and shifting like living artwork.
“I am not.” Ireland’s nostrils flared, her palms itching to call for the reassurance of her weapons. “You are the monster.”
“You’d love to think that , wouldn’t you?” Her darker self turned away, a prowling panther not the least bit concerned by the quaking antelope before it, and sauntered to Noah’s side.
Flaxen hair fell into his eyes as he glanced up at her … and froze. His life saving task all but forgotten. One seductive curl of her finger was all the motivation he needed to raise to his feet. Truly a man bewitched, who refused to allow even a blink to break his enraptured stare.
“You are me, and I you.” Curling her fingers around the collar of his shirt, her Hessian counterpart pulled Noah’s body against her. Her lips teased over his, causing his entire frame to tremble at her touch. “We are the harbinger of death. Our very touch is as deadly as a blade when wielded properly.”
In a blur of speed, she stabbed her arm forward. A choked gasp ek ed past Noah’s slack jaw. His chin dropped to his chest, staring in bewildered astonishment at the hand buried wrist deep in his chest.
“I-Ireland?” he croaked , accusation and confusion gouging deep lines between his brows.
Sticky , wetness beneath her hand yanked Ireland’s head down sharp. Her cloak snapped out behind her in the night breeze, its familiar cadence welcoming her home. She had become the beast, Noah’s still beating heart pulsating in her grasp. She wanted to loosen her hold, to set him free. Even so, her murderous limb rose, holding the dying muscle up for him to see.
“Nothing to offer, but death.” Crimson streaks raced down her fingers, dripping from her palm as she dug her nails in deep … and squeezed.
“Ireland? The flashing, illuminated man means walk,” Noah patiently explained, gesturing to the street sign behind him. “Look, it’s even counting down for you! You now have 16 seconds to cross the street before
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