Shadow Rising
Read the Excerpt
“Evening, kitten. Care for some company? I can’t bear to see such a lovely thing sitting all alone.”
When she turned her head to look at him, Damien noticed two things immediately: one, what had seemed beautiful from across the room was absolutely exquisite up close, and two, she had eyes the color of Scottish heather. The combination could mean only one thing.
“Fuck me,” he blurted. “You’re the Grigori woman?”
Those amazing eyes narrowed. When she spoke, her voice was faintly musical, with a hint of an accent he couldn’t place.
“I have no idea who you are or what you’re talking about,” she said stiffly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m…waiting for someone.”
Then Damien watched, incredulous, as she turned her back, dismissing him without another word. He was used to all manner of poor treatment (and quite a bit of good, as well, depending on the nature of the job), but being summarily dismissed by some slip of a woman, particularly one who he already knew planned to interfere with his work, was not something he intended to tolerate.
Besides…he wanted another look at that face of hers.
A hard glare, with a bit of a bellicose mental push, sent the man occupying the stool next to her bolting away. Damien slid easily onto the warm stool with a smile, signaled the bartender, and ordered a dirty martini. He knew she knew he was there. Her discomfort was palpable, and Damien wasn’t ashamed to enjoy it. He’d learned long ago that being noticed was far better than being overlooked, no matter how you got the attention.
Finally, just as the bartender set down the drink in front of Damien, she spoke again. Her tones were clipped.
“Why,” she asked, “are you still here? I believe I told you I’m busy, and I’m not interested in your advances. Please leave me alone.”
Her speech was a little awkward and formal, a bit like the couple of male Grigori he’d run into over the years. He hadn’t found them nearly as charming, though. Intrigued, he decided to play with her to see what more he could discover. Not interested? Well, they’d just see about that.
“Ah, you may not want my company, but you don’t have much choice in the matter right now. Best to try and enjoy it. After all, it could be worse. I could just get up, walk away, and call in the cavalry. They want you back, and they’re looking for you. I’m in a position to know, being a Shade.” He tilted his head, saw her shoulders stiffen, and smiled. Being a cat-shifter had earned him no love in his long life, but becoming a Shade had at least gotten him some healthy respect.
“By the way,” he continued conversationally when she said nothing, “Is that a wig you’re wearing? It’s bloody horrible.”
As a method of getting her to look at him again, the combination of an insult and a thinly-veiled threat worked like a charm. As a way of endearing himself to her, not so much. Still, Damien felt another fascinating punch of desire as he got to take in the Grigori woman’s face up close. She jerked her head to the side to glare at him, those brilliant amethyst eyes reflecting both anger and fear. Damien ignored both for the time being, allowing himself to peruse her delicate features: the aquiline nose with a stubborn little point at the tip, the pink rosebud lips, finely arched brows and long, dark lashes. The face itself was a perfect oval, set off by high cheekbones, and the emotions it reflected were as transparent as glass.
In some odd way, Damien found her reaction to him refreshing. In his line of work, honesty, in any form, was a novelty.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you won’t leave then I will.” She started to rise, but Damien’s hand shot out to catch her arm, squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable. He leaned in so that only she could hear him.
“I don’t think so, love. Fortunately for you, I’m in a giving mood this evening. Entertain me for a bit and I may decide to let you go…for now. What do you say?”
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