Read Online The Wraith's Story (BRIGAND Book 1) by Natalie French, Scot Bayless - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Natalie French, Scot Bayless
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second that I hesitated, in the one second I thought of Heraila with his neck muscles straining above me as he bucked and came inside of me, and I thought of The Woman and The Bishop and how they defied an entire government, all of the complexities of love stretched within my mind and I hesitated. I faltered. I knew that was not what I felt for her. And in my moment of hesitation, she knew too.
She walked to the bedroom door and pushed it open. "No," she said. "Don't talk. And please don't follow me." Then she stepped inside and closed the door.
__________
I waited for a very long time before I went into the bedroom. When I did, she was there, where I expected her to be, pale and beautiful on the bed, with a new red incision on her right hip which simply read TRIG, and blood pooling into the mattress beneath her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cutter finally cut too deep – into her thighs and groin and wrists. She used the knives I had bandaged to her broken fingers.
I rushed to her and lifted her lifeless body, bracing her head against my chest, and tried to apply pressure to her thighs. But the white of her skin was completely covered in thick, warm blood. A thin stream leaked from her legs, not gushing.
I held her. For hours. Maybe a day.
She left me a detailed note. All of the information needed for my survival — no emotion, no goodbyes. I had access codes that somehow reached Ereena, although I didn't fully understand how to use them, and a ticket to get me off of Earth in two days. Her last order was to leave her body there. She knew that attempting to dispose of it would only bring me trouble.
Her final words were, "Your training is done. I have nothing left to give to you. You have to find the rest on your own."
I left her, just as she wanted. The thought of her there, alone, made my stomach convulse and I couldn't eat for a long time. But survival is a funny thing. Because even as part of me wanted to follow my teacher's last lesson, and end my life with hers, something pushed me forward. Will, energy connection, or stubbornness, propelled me out of the room, through the streets and to a dark hole of a room that I paid for with the stolen creds for a week's stay.
I missed her.
It was after she was gone that I was strangled for the third time in my life. I woke from a violent dream with that Jovian meat bag, the one from the bar, sprawled out on top of me. Somehow he'd tracked me down.
He pressed on top of me, his massive body covering mine, and his thick fingers digging deep into my throat.
"Hullo, luv," he warbled into my face. "It took me a long time to find you."
I tried to turn my head to the side, to avoid the putrid smell coming from his mouth. He squeezed my neck tighter.
"How's about a little tickle?" He spat right beside my left ear and then brought his face down closer to mine. My legs were pinned in between his as he straddled me. I could have cussed him out in twenty different languages, four in his own dialects, but I couldn't get enough air even for a single breath. I practiced my calm.
I knew I didn't have the physical strength to push him off of me. I waited for another shift in his balance and then I brought my thin arms up to my chin pushing out against the inside of his forearms with all of my strength. He wavered slightly and fell closer to me. Exactly what I needed.
I spun my hip to the side and pushed my iliac crest into his crotch. My steel-clad hip belt wrenched into him — hard. He groaned and cursed and fell closer to my face. I lifted my neck ever so slightly and scissored my teeth directly into his carotid artery. The warmth and whoosh of fresh blood flooded my mouth and I almost spewed bile on him, but he had pulled his hands away from my neck to clamp over his own. I pulled my knees up to my chest and shoved his body off of me. Then I arched my back and flipped up to a standing position and swiftly kicked him in the head with edge of my boot. Just making sure.
After a
She walked to the bedroom door and pushed it open. "No," she said. "Don't talk. And please don't follow me." Then she stepped inside and closed the door.
__________
I waited for a very long time before I went into the bedroom. When I did, she was there, where I expected her to be, pale and beautiful on the bed, with a new red incision on her right hip which simply read TRIG, and blood pooling into the mattress beneath her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cutter finally cut too deep – into her thighs and groin and wrists. She used the knives I had bandaged to her broken fingers.
I rushed to her and lifted her lifeless body, bracing her head against my chest, and tried to apply pressure to her thighs. But the white of her skin was completely covered in thick, warm blood. A thin stream leaked from her legs, not gushing.
I held her. For hours. Maybe a day.
She left me a detailed note. All of the information needed for my survival — no emotion, no goodbyes. I had access codes that somehow reached Ereena, although I didn't fully understand how to use them, and a ticket to get me off of Earth in two days. Her last order was to leave her body there. She knew that attempting to dispose of it would only bring me trouble.
Her final words were, "Your training is done. I have nothing left to give to you. You have to find the rest on your own."
I left her, just as she wanted. The thought of her there, alone, made my stomach convulse and I couldn't eat for a long time. But survival is a funny thing. Because even as part of me wanted to follow my teacher's last lesson, and end my life with hers, something pushed me forward. Will, energy connection, or stubbornness, propelled me out of the room, through the streets and to a dark hole of a room that I paid for with the stolen creds for a week's stay.
I missed her.
It was after she was gone that I was strangled for the third time in my life. I woke from a violent dream with that Jovian meat bag, the one from the bar, sprawled out on top of me. Somehow he'd tracked me down.
He pressed on top of me, his massive body covering mine, and his thick fingers digging deep into my throat.
"Hullo, luv," he warbled into my face. "It took me a long time to find you."
I tried to turn my head to the side, to avoid the putrid smell coming from his mouth. He squeezed my neck tighter.
"How's about a little tickle?" He spat right beside my left ear and then brought his face down closer to mine. My legs were pinned in between his as he straddled me. I could have cussed him out in twenty different languages, four in his own dialects, but I couldn't get enough air even for a single breath. I practiced my calm.
I knew I didn't have the physical strength to push him off of me. I waited for another shift in his balance and then I brought my thin arms up to my chin pushing out against the inside of his forearms with all of my strength. He wavered slightly and fell closer to me. Exactly what I needed.
I spun my hip to the side and pushed my iliac crest into his crotch. My steel-clad hip belt wrenched into him — hard. He groaned and cursed and fell closer to my face. I lifted my neck ever so slightly and scissored my teeth directly into his carotid artery. The warmth and whoosh of fresh blood flooded my mouth and I almost spewed bile on him, but he had pulled his hands away from my neck to clamp over his own. I pulled my knees up to my chest and shoved his body off of me. Then I arched my back and flipped up to a standing position and swiftly kicked him in the head with edge of my boot. Just making sure.
After a
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