Free The Wraith's Story (BRIGAND Book 1) by Natalie French, Scot Bayless Page B

at me again.
    I watched the black sky outside. The stars began to whirl by as we spun into orbit. For the first time in my entire life I could see…. nothing.
    I peeked through the corner of my eye at him. He grinned again. My stomach flipped and a warm sensation spread through my belly. It reminded me of the one time I had tasted chocolate and suddenly I realized that salt and sweet were the perfect complements for one another.
    I crossed my arms lower and pressed them into my stomach. I had gone my whole life without feeling like this. I certainly didn't need it now. I knew I'd just made a terrible mistake leaving with this cheerful monolith of a man.
    Somehow that pleased me.

A PREVIEW OF BOOK TWO

    Book Two
    The Jack's Story
     
    Blood spurted from my face. A mucus-tinged blob plopped at my feet as a soft crunch sounded between my eyes. I had a second to guess my nose was broken before another punch followed.
    The beating felt kinda good. Like purpose.
    The kid using my head as a punching bag was a grit from the Depot, the bottom ward of Entebbe Lift. His technique sucked, but he made it up in anger. His dirty fist swung at the center of my face again. I watched it approach, in slow motion, and knew I should dodge the blow. I didn't.
    He hit me square on the bridge of my nose. Another crunch and, this time, a spark of light lit up in front of my eyes. A sharp pinch formed high inside my head, like I'd sneezed a razor blade. I blew hard through my nostrils and a bright jet of blood shot to the pavement spattering the dirty gray stevedores, two sizes too big, that I'd stolen out of some loadwalker's kit a couple of days ago.
    I huffed out a wordless grunt. My abs automatically clenched with the effort, fueling me, making me feel hard and focused.  I shook my head and cursed him in Ebo Gutter, the dialect of his quad.
    His eyes widened. His buddies hung back, fidgeting from side to side and glancing at each other as if trying to gauge whether they should jump in and help kill me – or flee. The surprise glistened in his eyes, mixed with fury at the insult. His pale yellow face flushed a kind of pink-orange that went nicely with the blood on my shoes. My blood.
    The joke was on them though, because I wasn't even entirely sure what I said – just something I overheard in the bar a while back. One of our regulars said it about a scut he'd stuffed into a reclamation pit. I don't speak Ebo, but it was pretty obvious it wasn't good. Judging by this grit's reaction, more like epic bad.
    I smiled and they all stopped. Surprised. Maybe a little scared. Considering whether they were dealing with a zee – someone insane enough to be dangerous. He dropped his fists, muttered something in Ebo and spat, not quite missing my bloodied shoe. Then he spun and stalked off. His friends trailed behind.
    I used my sleeve to wipe my nose as I traced my tongue along the inside of my mouth, applying pressure along my front teeth until the third one on the right popped out. I spit it into the sludge of nose-vomited blood, then picked it up for inspection.  Nice. I pocketed the tiny pearl, my first tooth lost in a real fight. I wasn't too concerned about the hole in my smile. My adult teeth would grow in eventually. After all, I was only eight.
    With my prize safely tucked away, I ran off to the corner supply store. The clerk, Chaz, called out to me as I entered, "I got my eyes on you, boy!"
    I made a gesture at him, something else I'd picked up in the bar, and he shut up, glaring at me through the slits of his eyes.
    I grabbed all my usuals: three packs of vapes, 5 rolls of condoms, their cheapest bottle of Drule, and the finest rock candy the wards of Entebbe Lift had to offer. The candy was my payment.
    I clomped home at a good pace, my big shoes and throbbing nose failing to slow me. The sign above the door was oxidized and hanging askew. No one ever bothered to fix it and you could no longer read the symbols etched in the steel. We didn't