Read Online The Ryu Morgue (A Jane True Short Story) (Trueniverse Book 2) by Nicole Peeler - Free Book Online

much faster than she should have been, if not fast enough to really be a match for him.
    But that was where the danger lay, he realized. The magic made her dangerous enough that deadly force might be necessary to protect whomever she attacked.
    He backed away from her as she prepared for another strike, holding his hands up in supplication. “Maeve. This isn’t you. It’s the shawl. You have to fight it, Maeve.”
    She stopped and blinked at her name, which he’d used on purpose. He had to get through whatever hold Pai’s knitting had on her. Maeve blinked a second time, shaking her head slightly.
    “Murderer!” She lunged again, this time running at him like they were playing football.
    He dodged her, trying again to reach her. “I’m not a murderer, Maeve.” At least I haven’t been for a while , he thought. “You’re not yourself.”
    “Liar!” she shouted, her face contorted with rage as the shawl undulated around her throat. “You killed her! I saw you!”
    This time, when she lunged, he struck out with his left arm, hitting her wrist with enough force to disarm her. The knife clattered to the ground even as her other hand clawed at his face, her nails raking viciously down his cheek and jaw. He ignored the pain, grabbing both hands and shoving her over onto her back.
    She hit the ground hard, her head smacking against the paving stones with an audible thunk. He winced at the sound, but she appeared unaffected, fighting him like a banshee hopped up on meth. Standing over her, he made a desperate bid for the shawl. She used the hand he’d freed to punch him squarely in the Adam’s apple. Tears popped into his eyes as his breath faltered, pain blistering his senses. He jumped on top of her, pinning her with his weight for as long as it took him to grab both of her wrists. As he manhandled them into his left hand, he raised his chest off hers, just enough to make another attempt for the shawl.
    This time, he was successful. His hand closed on the writhing fabric, but now he was wrestling both the shawl and the woman it possessed.
    It wrapped around Maeve’s neck like a boa constrictor, even as her body bucked underneath him, threatening to throw him off. She bit at the hand holding her wrists, and he swore.
    “Damn it, Maeve! Fight it!” Her eyes darted toward him, but her teeth found the soft flesh between his thumb and pointer finger, sinking deep.
    He yanked that hand up, her head following with her jaw’s death grip. He used the opportunity to get a better hold on the back of the shawl. He pulled with all of his strength and the shawl finally began to give way, its freed ends reaching out toward Maeve in an eerie parody of a hug. Her teeth sank deeper into his hand as he finally separated her entirely from the shawl, throwing the fabric toward the other end of the patio.
    “Maeve?” he asked, cradling her head in his free hand. She looked up at him from where she had her teeth still sunk in his flesh, her violent bucking slowing.
    But not fast enough to keep him from reacting, like any male vampire would, to the pain/pleasure of her strong bite and the shift of her hips and soft belly against his groin.
    She let go suddenly, gasping in a breath as tears abruptly formed in her eyes. “Oh my God, Ryu, what have I done?”
    Freed from her teeth, he jerked himself back so that he sat sprawled at her feet. She sat up, tears streaming down her cheeks, her plump lips bloodied.
    “Your face,” she said, reaching a trembling hand toward him. “Your hand...”
    “I’m fine,” he said, the husky tone in his voice having nothing to do with anger, but she obviously took it that way.
    “I’m so sorry,” she said, dropping her hand. “I don’t know what happened...”
    “I do,” he said, trying to get a rein on his feelings. Especially the ones currently making a tent of his trousers, a tent he fervidly hoped Maeve wouldn’t notice. “And it’s not your fault. I told you the shawl was safe.