Free Reckoning by Amy Miles Page A

promise I won’t hurt you.”
     
    “It’s not me I’m worried about.”   As if a serrated blade has spilled his intestines to the floor, Gabriel wails, clutching his stomach.   His vision plummets into shadow.   His stomach twists with need as his mouth salivates at the scent of Sias’ blood.   So close.   So delicious.  
     
    Gabriel’s nerve endings alight with desire.   His breathing becomes haggard as he struggles to keep his hands locked around his stomach.   His fingers dig into his flesh, securing them in place.  
     
    Sias moves closer, reaching out for Gabriel.   “Let me help you.”
     
    Wild eyes pop open, fixating on the steady thrumming pulse at Sias’ neck.   The thought of sinking his teeth into this man’s throat nearly releases Gabriel’s savage desires.   “Please. Leave.”
     
    Coherent thoughts form but are slippery to grasp.   He desperately clings to the remaining shreds of his control.
     
    “You must listen to me!” Sias pleads.  
     
    A snarl breaks through Gabriel’s grimace.   His hands clutch Sias’ shirt.   With a tremendous shout, Gabriel tosses him out of the door, draining the last of his energy.  
     
    “Stay out,” he orders.   His eyes roll back into his head.  
     
    Rose, help me , his mind calls as darkness sweeps in.  
     

 

     

     

     

     
    Chapter 10
     

     

     
    Hired companionship is a poor exchange for happiness.   Or false love for that matter.   Apparently, it sucks at erasing memories too.  
     
    Fane’s stomach churns with self-loathing.   The young girl writhing on his lap disgusts him.   He turns his face away from her frantic kisses.
     
    Glitter globs on the end of her fake eyelashes.   Her blood red lipstick smears from her swollen lips.   Thick clumps of foundation appear along the sweat line of her brow.   
     
    The girl cannot be much older than seventeen, perhaps even younger.   Fane curses his youthful appearance, wishing he had not allowed this street urchin to seduce her way into his hotel room.
     
    “What’s wrong?” she pouts, splaying her fingers across his bare chest.  
     
    He winces, snatching her hands away from his skin.   “You need to leave.”
     
    Her hormone glazed eyes blink.   “I don’t understand.   I thought you wanted me.”   She leans in to snuggle his neck.   Her second-hand red sequined dress pulls low, spilling out ample amounts of her chest.   Her long slender legs, clothed in black fishnet tights, shift to encircle his waist.  
     
    It is not her touch that he craves.   Not her lips that he yearns for.   He closes his eyes as his heart calls to her- Roseline.
     
    The nibble at his ear lobe ignites his anger.   Fane rises from the bed, tumbling the girl to the floor.   He reaches for his shirt, which lies crumpled on the bed.
     
      She splutters behind him, her ankles buckle as she fights to pull herself upright on her platform heels.   Her fingers loop through her purse strap as she rises.   “What’s your problem?”
     
    Snatching a wad of cash from the drawer of his bedside table, Fane tosses it onto the bed.   “Your services are no longer required.”
     
    “Are you for real?”   She snatches the cash and shoves it into the left cup of her lacy black bra.  
     
    Fane growls.   “See.   Yourself.   Out.”
     
    “Jerk.”   She stomps across the room and slams the door behind her.
     
    He sinks onto the bed, burying his face in his hands.   What is he doing?   Why did he come to London?   To the one place most filled with memories of Roseline?   Was it simply to torment himself further?
     
    No. He knows he is here for another reason.  
     
    Fane gingerly slips his arms through the hole of his shirt, rumpled from the young girl’s haste to disrobe him.   He winces as the material glides over his healing wound.   Although much of the muscle in his side has knit back together, the skin around the closing wound is still raw to