Free No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1) by Stasia Morineaux

and Gideon,
they sounded worried, maybe even fearful.
    “I’ve never seen this happen before.”
Gideon murmured. “Who the hell is she?”
    “I watched the Lanmhuchadh serve her the
tainted drink, he signaled before so I could cull her. How is she not Lissa?
How is she not the right one?”
    “I’m waiting on those answers.”
    “She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?”
Liam countered.
    “I need to make more calls. Nothing about
this, about her, has been usual. She was not the one on our notice. She’s not
human. But if she was Sióg she’d know all of this already.”
    “Something about her is…so different.”
    “She’s more…something more than we were
expecting.”
     

 
     
     
     
      ~ Chapter Seven
~
     
     
     
     
    I
woke up slowly, not ready yet to let go of my dreams. As strange as they were,
I was having a great time. A dream of adventure and love and death.
    Of course death.
    I had flown up above the tree tops in
the night sky, just skimming the tops of the trees and buildings, the houses.
    At one point I was sitting in a huge
tree, perched high up in its branches, watching people below me. Searching
them.
    Parts were blurry, parts were distinct.
I remember becoming something, not quite me.
    I was confronting a person. I think he
may have been a criminal. I felt scared, stupid for being there.
    It was a dark and unfamiliar area, a
park or maybe the countryside, and he’d been approaching me.
    Threatening.
    The word had come to me like a wave
washing into me. And I knew he was dangerous. With all certainty I knew.
But I stood my ground. I stood there as he came closer—and then I glowed.
    My skin warmed and tingled. I saw a
radiance, an aura, an energy, a warm luminosity emerge from me, spread out and
surround him. And his face changed. The dark scowl slackened. His eyes changed.
The danger faded away. A gun dropped to the ground. He fell to his knees.
    The glowing… whatever that came
from me surged into his chest. I could feel it, a connection, it wrapped
throughout him. Around his soul. All danger was gone. I had changed him. And I
felt changed.
    I walked away without a word.
     
     

 
     
     
     
    ~
Chapter Eight ~
     
     
     
     
    I
sat up, pushing the soft chenille blanket away, quietly padding to the
bathroom.
    Shocking! How was this remotely
possible? To wake up and look like this—this good?
    So, I guess maybe there was a slight
perk to this thing. I looked fresh, beautiful, luminous. This would take some
getting used to. I mean, that face in the reflection looked like me, but it
really didn’t in some ways.
    I turned my head from left to right,
inspecting myself. It was like seeing a perfectly Photo Shopped image. Even
that little scar on my jaw that I’d been sporting since I was nine, from a
beach accident, had vanished.
    I splashed some cool water on my face
and swished with some mouthwash that I’d found beneath the vanity, before
heading back to the living room.
    I ran my fingers through my hair,
untangling—all of two tangles—and smoothing the long silky curls and waves as I
walked.
    My eyes landed on Liam, still splayed
out in the exact same position in the chair, still fast asleep.
    Was he still angry at me? Was he still
sunken deep in remorse?
    I pondered what to do. Should I wake
him, or wait on the couch until he woke on his own? I was much to angsty to be still for very long. What was to happen today?
Where was Gideon? Would I have to see him again today? That consideration made
me shake. Dread? Or eagerness?
    I paced back and forth in front of Liam,
eventually kneeling in front of him. I wanted today to start, but I kind of
didn’t. I wanted to talk to him, but I kind of didn’t.
    So, I just stared at him instead.
    Watching him. Studying him. He was
beautiful. Still unshaved. His face was relaxed. Unworried. Unstressed. Unangry at me. Looking at him like this, in sleep, and
feeling so vulnerable and alone myself, I found my animosity for him