Read Online Stricken (The War Scrolls Book 1) by A.K. Morgen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: A.K. Morgen
Ads: Link
appeared devoid of life. The images were little more than black-and-white architectural snapshots, seemingly chosen to match the colorless décor. An inconspicuous television sat on top of an equally inconspicuous stand.
A hotel room had more personality than Aubrey’s home.
Killian glanced down at her. “How long have you and your aunt lived here?”
“Shh, Zee,” she crooned to the kitten in her arms, ignoring his question. “The bad man won’t hurt you.” She scratched at the furball’s ears. “You’re a good guard kitty, aren’t you?”
Killian shook his head as the animal snuggled into Aubrey’s arms and started purring in loud satisfaction. She heaped praise and adoration on the kitten, cuddling the tiny animal to her chest before burying her nose in his fur.
Tension drained from her as she breathed deeply.
The stiff set of her shoulders relaxed.
The tight, rigid expression on her face vanished.
Standing there watching her, Killian actually envied the kitten. “Which is your bedroom?” he asked, feeling foolish for the irrational, unwelcome sting of jealousy poking at him. Abriel and Dom would never let him live down the shame if they found out.
“Hmm?” Aubrey raised soft eyes in his direction. “Oh.” Her expression cleared and cooled as she caught sight of him.
Sweet Heaven, she really didn’t like him, did she?
Two doors stood opposite each other at the end of a small hallway. Aubrey pointed toward the one on the right before setting the kitten on its feet. “That’s my room.”
The kitten raced across the carpet, hopped up onto the sofa, and curled itself into a ball, yawning.
Killian stomped across the room, Aubrey following behind him. He pushed the bedroom door open with a foot and stepped inside, his knives poised for throwing. Everything seemed normal in her bedroom too. The dresser and bedside table were white. The forest-green blankets and pillows piled onto her bed were soft and inviting. A single photo of a dark-haired couple with a young boy sat atop the nightstand. The man held his hands against the woman’s swollen stomach, a big smile on his face. The woman looked like Aubrey.
One corner of the photograph was blackened.
Was this all that remained of her past, then? One charred photograph and painful memories?
Sympathy for her welled.
“Satisfied?” she demanded from behind him.
He turned reluctantly to face her. “You’ll be safe here for now.”
“Good. You can go now.”
“No, I can’t.”
Her mouth fell open.
“I can’t leave you here alone.”
“I’m not a child,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at him, the lovely green of her irises darkening. “I don’t need a babysitter. Especially not one I don’t like.”
Her hostile honesty irritated him. He’d been cruel when she came barreling into the house last night and again in the elevator moments ago—he knew that—but he was trying to make amends. The least she could do was pretend to be civil as she had in the car on the way over here.
“I don’t like you either, sweetheart,” he lied, leaning back against the wall, “and I don’t care how old you are. You’re of no use to me dead, so I’m not leaving until I know you won’t disappear as soon as I pull out of the parking lot.”
“There’s no one here!” She flung her arms out wide as if to indicate the empty apartment.
“Oh? You can sense werewolves and vampires now?”
She rolled her eyes at his sarcastic question. “I don’t want you here.”
“And I want the Senators to win the Stanley Cup, but it looks like we’re both out of luck, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
Aubrey blinked as if surprised and then narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Does it bother you, sweetheart ?”
She flinched, her bottom lip trembling faintly. “My dad called me sweetheart, asshole .”
Well, hell.
Killian sighed, his frustration dissolving. He’d meant to irritate her, not
A hotel room had more personality than Aubrey’s home.
Killian glanced down at her. “How long have you and your aunt lived here?”
“Shh, Zee,” she crooned to the kitten in her arms, ignoring his question. “The bad man won’t hurt you.” She scratched at the furball’s ears. “You’re a good guard kitty, aren’t you?”
Killian shook his head as the animal snuggled into Aubrey’s arms and started purring in loud satisfaction. She heaped praise and adoration on the kitten, cuddling the tiny animal to her chest before burying her nose in his fur.
Tension drained from her as she breathed deeply.
The stiff set of her shoulders relaxed.
The tight, rigid expression on her face vanished.
Standing there watching her, Killian actually envied the kitten. “Which is your bedroom?” he asked, feeling foolish for the irrational, unwelcome sting of jealousy poking at him. Abriel and Dom would never let him live down the shame if they found out.
“Hmm?” Aubrey raised soft eyes in his direction. “Oh.” Her expression cleared and cooled as she caught sight of him.
Sweet Heaven, she really didn’t like him, did she?
Two doors stood opposite each other at the end of a small hallway. Aubrey pointed toward the one on the right before setting the kitten on its feet. “That’s my room.”
The kitten raced across the carpet, hopped up onto the sofa, and curled itself into a ball, yawning.
Killian stomped across the room, Aubrey following behind him. He pushed the bedroom door open with a foot and stepped inside, his knives poised for throwing. Everything seemed normal in her bedroom too. The dresser and bedside table were white. The forest-green blankets and pillows piled onto her bed were soft and inviting. A single photo of a dark-haired couple with a young boy sat atop the nightstand. The man held his hands against the woman’s swollen stomach, a big smile on his face. The woman looked like Aubrey.
One corner of the photograph was blackened.
Was this all that remained of her past, then? One charred photograph and painful memories?
Sympathy for her welled.
“Satisfied?” she demanded from behind him.
He turned reluctantly to face her. “You’ll be safe here for now.”
“Good. You can go now.”
“No, I can’t.”
Her mouth fell open.
“I can’t leave you here alone.”
“I’m not a child,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at him, the lovely green of her irises darkening. “I don’t need a babysitter. Especially not one I don’t like.”
Her hostile honesty irritated him. He’d been cruel when she came barreling into the house last night and again in the elevator moments ago—he knew that—but he was trying to make amends. The least she could do was pretend to be civil as she had in the car on the way over here.
“I don’t like you either, sweetheart,” he lied, leaning back against the wall, “and I don’t care how old you are. You’re of no use to me dead, so I’m not leaving until I know you won’t disappear as soon as I pull out of the parking lot.”
“There’s no one here!” She flung her arms out wide as if to indicate the empty apartment.
“Oh? You can sense werewolves and vampires now?”
She rolled her eyes at his sarcastic question. “I don’t want you here.”
“And I want the Senators to win the Stanley Cup, but it looks like we’re both out of luck, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
Aubrey blinked as if surprised and then narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Does it bother you, sweetheart ?”
She flinched, her bottom lip trembling faintly. “My dad called me sweetheart, asshole .”
Well, hell.
Killian sighed, his frustration dissolving. He’d meant to irritate her, not
Similar Books
