Read Online Year of the Tiger by Heather Heffner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather Heffner
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invitation in my pocket. I carried it everywhere with me, nervously awaiting this vampyre messenger who would “call upon me in a fortnight.” I brought it out for the thousandth time, eyes glued on the bold black characters upon the parchment, which still shimmered as if wet. My heart dropped down a bottomless chasm and there was no hope in recovering it. How should I play this? Should I go? Was I ready?
The letter was snatched from my hand, and I blinked up at Rafael. The ice fisher was limping home for the day, and it was just Rafael and I left in the snow-frocked trees. “ Yah! Give that back!”
“ ‘Yah’? Now you think you’re Korean?” Rafael dangled the invitation high above my head. “A good old yah! isn’t going to stop vampyres from killing and stuffing you when you step foot in their palace.”
“I’ll make them give me what I want,” I growled, taking another swipe at the invitation. “Just like you’re going to give that back to me.”
“How? It’s broad daylight. No Wolf to fall back upon.” He backed away, eyes locked on mine.
“I don’t need to shift.” I took a quick survey of his rangy frame, lean muscles, and intense gaze, not liking my odds at all. He would be off-balance the second he took another step backwards. I watched his left foot slide, and then I tackled him at the knees.
The strong kick to my stomach was hardly what I expected. My vision burned scarlet-red, and then I scrambled up to center my weight. His fingers dug into my shoulders, and he jerked me back against his chest. My arms flailed around like a scarecrow’s, and then I jammed my fingers into his eyes.
A hiss of displeasure, hot against my neck. Yeah. He didn’t like that. I slammed one foot down on his vulnerable toes, elbowed him hard in the jugular, and then whirled out from his grasp so fast that he was forced to release the letter.
It floated to the ground unnoticed. I didn’t tear my gaze away from him. We ducked, weaved, and wrestled with one another, the crisp cold of that timeless winter afternoon broken only by the scuffle of our feet and our sharp gasps of pain.
At some point, the fight ceased to be about fighting and became about something else entirely: the sensation of his fingers raking frustrated lines down my skin; his harsh breath in my ear, here and then gone again; the way his hands clasped my waist, roughly, a bold challenge to see how far I would let him go before I broke. The boiling anger fueling my punches evaporated, leaving behind something hotter, quivering, and urgent.
I felt his arms curl around me, and that forbidden thing stirred inside. I couldn’t do this. I had to get out of here, before I did something stupid. I chose the low-blow route of twisting and kneeing his nether regions, but he caught my leg and swung me around. I heard his breath skip when his hand brushed my inner calf.
Newly emboldened, I chose to attack his low-level face with a roundhouse kick, but Rafael had had enough. He barreled into me, and we both smacked against the frozen dirt, our cheeks bruising against the ice. I did a back extension roll, seeking to flip myself up and out of danger, but he caught my legs mid-air and twisted me back down.
Pinning me to the ground, he placed each of my arms in an iron-manacle grip on either side of my head, and then raised himself up to look at me. I could feel his weight sink into my chest, knew he could feel my breasts pressed up against him, and worse—my heartbeat, thudding with all the subtlety of an oncoming freight train. His longish hair dangled around his chin, and the sunlight caught the copper of his hazel eyes, burnishing them a sparkling gold.
He reached for a strand of my hair, and I went completely still, not daring to breathe. Rafael seemed in a trance, too, head tilted as he watched his hand inch forward curiously, as if wondering if he would really do it. Then his hand dropped. It felt like the entire intensity of the sun had been
The letter was snatched from my hand, and I blinked up at Rafael. The ice fisher was limping home for the day, and it was just Rafael and I left in the snow-frocked trees. “ Yah! Give that back!”
“ ‘Yah’? Now you think you’re Korean?” Rafael dangled the invitation high above my head. “A good old yah! isn’t going to stop vampyres from killing and stuffing you when you step foot in their palace.”
“I’ll make them give me what I want,” I growled, taking another swipe at the invitation. “Just like you’re going to give that back to me.”
“How? It’s broad daylight. No Wolf to fall back upon.” He backed away, eyes locked on mine.
“I don’t need to shift.” I took a quick survey of his rangy frame, lean muscles, and intense gaze, not liking my odds at all. He would be off-balance the second he took another step backwards. I watched his left foot slide, and then I tackled him at the knees.
The strong kick to my stomach was hardly what I expected. My vision burned scarlet-red, and then I scrambled up to center my weight. His fingers dug into my shoulders, and he jerked me back against his chest. My arms flailed around like a scarecrow’s, and then I jammed my fingers into his eyes.
A hiss of displeasure, hot against my neck. Yeah. He didn’t like that. I slammed one foot down on his vulnerable toes, elbowed him hard in the jugular, and then whirled out from his grasp so fast that he was forced to release the letter.
It floated to the ground unnoticed. I didn’t tear my gaze away from him. We ducked, weaved, and wrestled with one another, the crisp cold of that timeless winter afternoon broken only by the scuffle of our feet and our sharp gasps of pain.
At some point, the fight ceased to be about fighting and became about something else entirely: the sensation of his fingers raking frustrated lines down my skin; his harsh breath in my ear, here and then gone again; the way his hands clasped my waist, roughly, a bold challenge to see how far I would let him go before I broke. The boiling anger fueling my punches evaporated, leaving behind something hotter, quivering, and urgent.
I felt his arms curl around me, and that forbidden thing stirred inside. I couldn’t do this. I had to get out of here, before I did something stupid. I chose the low-blow route of twisting and kneeing his nether regions, but he caught my leg and swung me around. I heard his breath skip when his hand brushed my inner calf.
Newly emboldened, I chose to attack his low-level face with a roundhouse kick, but Rafael had had enough. He barreled into me, and we both smacked against the frozen dirt, our cheeks bruising against the ice. I did a back extension roll, seeking to flip myself up and out of danger, but he caught my legs mid-air and twisted me back down.
Pinning me to the ground, he placed each of my arms in an iron-manacle grip on either side of my head, and then raised himself up to look at me. I could feel his weight sink into my chest, knew he could feel my breasts pressed up against him, and worse—my heartbeat, thudding with all the subtlety of an oncoming freight train. His longish hair dangled around his chin, and the sunlight caught the copper of his hazel eyes, burnishing them a sparkling gold.
He reached for a strand of my hair, and I went completely still, not daring to breathe. Rafael seemed in a trance, too, head tilted as he watched his hand inch forward curiously, as if wondering if he would really do it. Then his hand dropped. It felt like the entire intensity of the sun had been
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