Free A Rush of Wings by Adrian Phoenix Page A

edges curling in
like a dead spider’s legs…
    AND STILL SHE’D SOBBED.
    E reached into the pocket of his cords and slipped out his latest souvenir. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the silky black stocking against his face. It whispered against the beard stubble on his face. He smelled her, cherries and musky sweat. He opened his eyes and stared into a world tinted black.
    Had she begged him to keep reading just to prevent him from reaching into his satchel full of sharp tricks? Or had she truly wanted the sound of his voice, the music of the written word?
    Please, no, no, read to me, please…keep reading .
    Staring into the black-smudged light, E heard her whispers again; he listened to her voice—low and shaky and seductive.
    Read to me, please…please…
    For a moment, as he’d read to Gina, he’d felt a sudden warmth in his chest. Looking up from the page, he’d seen a golden bond stretching from her heart to his own. The golden bond had shivered and shifted into a pale mist of light spilling between them, pouring like heated honey between Gina’s lips. When she’d opened her eyes again, they were golden.
    Please…read to me…
    Be my god…
    Okay, maybe she’d never said that last part. All the same, he’d seen it in her transformed eyes.
    Setting the book aside, unmarked, E kneels beside the bed, and kisses her bare shoulder. She shudders, her breath hitching. And, looking in, he sees a hard, crafty smile beneath the golden light, falsely curving those honeyed lips and dimming the radiance of her gaze .
    Ice hardens in his belly, frosts his guts, and quenches the fire raging in his veins .
    “ Name the one you love ,” he says, sitting back on his heels to watch her face .
    Her eyes flick back and forth, searching his face for clues. He goes still and gives her nothing .
    “ He’ll come for me ,” she finally breathes . “ He’s nightkind .”
    E slides a shaking hand into his satchel; cold steel sticks to his icy skin. Wraps his fingers around the shiv’s hilt .
    “ Say his name .”
    She sobs. Closes her eyes. Knows, maybe, that he can look in and see her lies. Her betrayal . “ He’ll come— ”
    “ For you?” E finishes . “ No, he won’t .” He lifts the shiv out of the satchel; dawn light sparks along the blade . “ Dante doesn’t care about you. Why would he ? You’re just a piece of ass .”
    Her eyes fly open at the sound of the name she hadn’t spoken. At the same moment, E plunges the knife into her belly .
    E rolled over onto his side, Gina’s stocking locked within his hand, a rosary for meditating upon the mysteries of lying bitches.
    She’d offered him love with her golden gaze, tempted him with adoration in the shape of her pleas. But he’d been smarter and stronger. He’d seen the lies squirming beneath her smooth skin. And beneath her black cherry scent, he’d smelled deceit, ripe and rank.
    He could’ve given her so much. He could’ve been her god.
    Which brought up an interesting point—being a god, why would he need a fucking bloodsucker like Ronin to guide him… control him?
    He’d awaken S all by himself.
    ***
    THE BULLET EXPLODED FROM the gun’s muzzle, the sharp retort cracking through the air, rebounding from the walls and shattering the narrow tunnel obstructing Heather’s vision. Her heart stopped for a split second, then everything zoomed forward in a blinding rush of speed.
    She slammed Jefferson into the wall with a body block. She seized his wrist and jerked his gun hand up. Davis wrenched the pistol from Jefferson’s fingers.
    “Holy shit, asshole,” he said, voice harsh. “You wanna fuck us all?”
    “Nothing to worry about,” LaRousse said. “He missed the bastard.”
    Heather looked at the doorway. Dante wasn’t there. Instead, he stood in the center of the room. As she watched, he walked back to the doorway, bracing his gloved hands against either side. He looked ready to launch himself at Jefferson. Again.
    Heather felt herself