Read Online Rhyannon Byrd - Primal Instinct 04 by Touch of Seduction - Free Book Online Page B

was a physical effort to keep his fangs from descending. Taking
an aggressive step forward, he ignored the wolf’s vicious snarls vibrating
inside his skull and got right in Gideon’s face, going nose to nose with him.
“You’ve got a lot of balls,” he growled, longing to throw the first punch,
“thinking I’d agree to anything that involves Ashe.”
    Granger’s lips twitched with bitter humor. “You’re not
the first man who’s accused me of that, but I’m sure as hell not going to show
them to you, Lycan. And yeah, I think you’ll cooperate. You need this
information too badly.”
    “I don’t need anything that badly,” Kierland drawled
with a mean smile. “And your brother can go screw himself for all I care.”
    The vampire’s eyes narrowed, until nothing but a thin
slice of gray burned through the dark veil of his lashes. “Regardless of how
you feel about Ashe, you know the code. It’s our right to destroy the ones who
have turned against us. We intend to keep searching for Westmore, doing
everything we can to find him. But we want this deal, in the event that you get
to him first.”
    For a moment Kierland thought his hatred would
actually get the better of him, the wolf punching against his insides, eager to
act on the rage that continued to seethe beneath his surface. The only thing
that held him back was the vampire’s eyes. The gray was darkening, proof that
Gideon hadn’t fed before approaching him. In the world of the Deschanel, that
was a sign that he’d come in peace, and not aggression. The vamp would still be
capable of giving Kierland a hell of a fight, but he’d purposely constrained
his strength as a show of good faith—one that Kierland couldn’t ignore, no
matter how badly he wanted to.
    Taking a deep breath, he retreated back a step,
needing to put a little breathing room between them as he struggled for
control. “You know, word on the street has it that the Deschanel treat the
Kraven like slaves,” he pointed out with thick sarcasm. “When you look at it
like that, you can hardly blame them for revolting.”
    “I didn’t say that their lot in life was fair,” Gideon
muttered, his rough tone cut with shades of anger and frustration. “But as
Förmyndares, my brother and I have a duty to protect the interests of the
Northern clans.”
    Though he wanted to argue the point, Kierland knew the
bastard was right. It was the duty of the Deschanel Förmyndares, or Protectors,
to destroy any threats to the vampire clans. And considering how much he knew
about the Deschanel, Westmore was definitely a threat. “You still haven’t told
me what you have to offer,” he muttered before easing back another step,
needing to put a little more distance between them if he wanted to keep the
wolf from taking over and going for the vamp’s throat. “This information you
think I need so badly. What is it?”
    “The Markers,” Gideon replied, his pale eyes holding
Kierland’s hostile stare. “There are things you don’t know about them. In
truth, they’re not all that they seem.”
    “Meaning?”
    A low, bitter laugh rumbled up from the vampire’s
chest, his expression shadowed by something ugly and dark. “Meaning that no
good deed in this world goes unpunished, Lycan. Or haven’t you learned that by
now?”
    A scowl pulled Kierland’s features tight. “And just
what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It means that your precious Dark Markers are far from
perfect. The Deschanel Elders believe that in order to pour the necessary power
into those little bits of metal, the Consortium had to travel into places that
you righteous bastards would never think of going. They had to meddle with
things that were better left alone.” Taking his right hand from his pocket,
Gideon rubbed his fingers against the shadow of bristle that roughened his jaw.
“In short,” he rasped, “they had to go begging to the darkness.”
    “The darkness,” Kierland echoed, noticing that