Read Online The Panther's Surrogate: A Paranormal Pregnancy Romance by Angela Foxxe - Free Book Online
Authors: Angela Foxxe
Ads: Link
a magician pulling a scarf rope out of their sleeve. “If you ever talk about that child like that again, I’m going to make sure you never step foot in this room again. Not because you’re banished, not because the King told you to, but because you’re going to be feeding the sharks.
I don’t mean that in a stereotypical mafia way, but in a legitimate way. I will rent a boat, take you out into the ocean, slit open your foot and dangle it over the side of the boat. When the sharks come after an hour or so, I’ll let them have you. Do you understand me? I let them have you piece by piece until you’re just a head bobbing on the water.”
Dubaku was smiling but she knew that he was thinking about what she was saying to him. She could see the thoughts turning over and over in his twisted little head and as he took a step back from her, letting her pass on her way, she couldn’t help but see Tendai whispering with Sipho who stood like a golem next to her.
She knew that rather than keep the peace, she had probably just helped her enemies form an alliance. Thankfully, she knew that Wahir had seen everything from the back of the auditorium. There was nothing that escaped his gaze.
* * *
It was strange for her to be called up to a penthouse suite, but it wasn’t the first time Josie had been called to a specific room to have a meeting with someone. There were plenty of times where political actions were discussed in hidden rooms behind closed doors that others didn’t have the right or the privilege to be a part of. This angered a lot of the Clan members who weren’t privy to this sort of thing, but it was how these things worked. She suspected she was going to be meeting with the Crocodile Clan who were still eagerly trying to get the Python Clan out of Africa and onto the island, something King Ronald would never go for.
Slipping the key into the lock, she waited for the click and walked inside of the Penthouse. It looked as if someone had been living here for a while and there was a spilled bottle of champagne on the floor. She stared at the bottle and wondered who could be so careless and reckless with such an expensive drink. It seemed like she had possibly been given the wrong key card to the wrong room.
“Hello?” Josie called.
“I’m sorry,” Kheem’s voice drifted from around the corner.
Without hesitating, she felt her feet carrying her to Kheem who was standing around the corner. She wanted nothing more than to run to him, to grab him and hug him. It had been days since she had seen him and all she could do was see specters of him all around the resort. Every time she saw a reflection in glass or on the surface of a mirror, she thought that it was Kheem. She couldn’t take it.
She wanted to see him so badly. She wanted to have him in her life and yet, she was denied him. She wanted to rip off whatever it was that maintenance was making him wear and she wanted to ravage him, to remind him that she still loved him more than anything else in the world.
Taking a deep breath, she paused when she rounded the corner and saw Kheem standing in front of the bathroom with an arm wrapped around his throat. She could see the tribal tattoos on the forearm and she knew whom they belonged to before she even had to say anything.
It was Faraji.
Faraji was a bit of a staple in the town of Tarobi. He was the scummy bartender in the Torch who spent more time staring at the strippers than he did actually doing his job. Everyone claimed he was a terrible bartender and that didn’t surprise her a whole lot. He was the kind of man who wore a derby hat and thought that it helped define him as a person. His long, wiry sideburns only helped to accentuate the fact he had no idea what he was doing with his life or who he was.
She could see his yellow eyes in the shadows behind Kheem who was bleeding from his forehead. Obviously this had been the trick all along. They must have lured Kheem here and then lured Josie
I don’t mean that in a stereotypical mafia way, but in a legitimate way. I will rent a boat, take you out into the ocean, slit open your foot and dangle it over the side of the boat. When the sharks come after an hour or so, I’ll let them have you. Do you understand me? I let them have you piece by piece until you’re just a head bobbing on the water.”
Dubaku was smiling but she knew that he was thinking about what she was saying to him. She could see the thoughts turning over and over in his twisted little head and as he took a step back from her, letting her pass on her way, she couldn’t help but see Tendai whispering with Sipho who stood like a golem next to her.
She knew that rather than keep the peace, she had probably just helped her enemies form an alliance. Thankfully, she knew that Wahir had seen everything from the back of the auditorium. There was nothing that escaped his gaze.
* * *
It was strange for her to be called up to a penthouse suite, but it wasn’t the first time Josie had been called to a specific room to have a meeting with someone. There were plenty of times where political actions were discussed in hidden rooms behind closed doors that others didn’t have the right or the privilege to be a part of. This angered a lot of the Clan members who weren’t privy to this sort of thing, but it was how these things worked. She suspected she was going to be meeting with the Crocodile Clan who were still eagerly trying to get the Python Clan out of Africa and onto the island, something King Ronald would never go for.
Slipping the key into the lock, she waited for the click and walked inside of the Penthouse. It looked as if someone had been living here for a while and there was a spilled bottle of champagne on the floor. She stared at the bottle and wondered who could be so careless and reckless with such an expensive drink. It seemed like she had possibly been given the wrong key card to the wrong room.
“Hello?” Josie called.
“I’m sorry,” Kheem’s voice drifted from around the corner.
Without hesitating, she felt her feet carrying her to Kheem who was standing around the corner. She wanted nothing more than to run to him, to grab him and hug him. It had been days since she had seen him and all she could do was see specters of him all around the resort. Every time she saw a reflection in glass or on the surface of a mirror, she thought that it was Kheem. She couldn’t take it.
She wanted to see him so badly. She wanted to have him in her life and yet, she was denied him. She wanted to rip off whatever it was that maintenance was making him wear and she wanted to ravage him, to remind him that she still loved him more than anything else in the world.
Taking a deep breath, she paused when she rounded the corner and saw Kheem standing in front of the bathroom with an arm wrapped around his throat. She could see the tribal tattoos on the forearm and she knew whom they belonged to before she even had to say anything.
It was Faraji.
Faraji was a bit of a staple in the town of Tarobi. He was the scummy bartender in the Torch who spent more time staring at the strippers than he did actually doing his job. Everyone claimed he was a terrible bartender and that didn’t surprise her a whole lot. He was the kind of man who wore a derby hat and thought that it helped define him as a person. His long, wiry sideburns only helped to accentuate the fact he had no idea what he was doing with his life or who he was.
She could see his yellow eyes in the shadows behind Kheem who was bleeding from his forehead. Obviously this had been the trick all along. They must have lured Kheem here and then lured Josie
Similar Books
