Taking Back Sunday
by Cristy Moran
Sunday has fought her abilities tooth and nail, but it’s been worth it. When Sunday joins her friends’ coven for an innocent gathering, Sunday discovers a darkness hidden beneath the blanket of the coven’s magic and she is determined to find out who is behind it and what she has planned.
For the last four years, Cyrus has been the point man on the contract to recapture the Incarnate and deliver her to the Pastophori of Iset. A gifted tracker and a fearless werewolf, he harbors a wild, inexplicable passion for the Incarnate that has driven him to hunt her. He was one of the original captors that brought her to Bernadette when his obsession with her began. Having found her, Cyrus and his pack find themselves torn between two objectives: take her by force and deliver her to yet another group of fanatics, or help her uncover the traitor among her coven.
from Chapter Seven (Sunday and Cyrus meet)
As Cyrus and Sunday’s eyes met, the world shifted. The stale stench of cigarette and pungent clove smoke lifted. The penetrating music and the muffled shouting that passed for conversation at the club quieted. In less than a second, Cyrus was utterly changed. Cyrus’ soul settled. In the place of the consuming hate he’d nursed for over a decade, he knew peace. His entire body relaxed, and his mind quieted. His heart froze. The breath caught in his chest.
Sunday’s body swayed as her friend tugged to keep her moving forward, but she stood her ground. Even after Cyrus released her arm, her eyes remained locked with his while her friend asked what the matter was. Her cheeks flushed. As soon as she smiled, her eyes followed suit shimmering like honey.
Another handful of seconds passed when she finally looked away, bent her head slightly, and lowered her chin. She was blushing. Smiling. Tilting her face up, she wrinkled her nose coyly and batted her eyelashes.
“Do I know you?” When Sunday spoke, her voice drowned out every other sound in the room. She smiled again, awaiting his response.
His chest tightened.
All those years he obsessively chased her, and she didn’t even know he existed. Now, she looked up at him sheepishly and more adorable than he ever imagined. She wasn’t rushing to leave. She wasn’t running away. Minutes ago, he was dead-set on tearing her to pieces. It had occurred to him in the past that he would be unable to turn her over to his contractors alive. He considered the very real possibility that, when he eventually found her, she would inspire such blind fury that he might unleash his wolf and tear out her throat. Now, however, confronted with her in the flesh, his anger melted.
“No,” he painfully responded. For such a small word, it took a mountain of effort to say it. It was all he could do to keep from choking on the lie. She looked at him for another long moment.
She turned and walked away. Seconds later, Cyrus remained, staring at the gaping hole left by her absence. Her words echoed as she left him standing there feeling more lost and confused than ever in his life.
“What was that about, Cy?”
Cyrus didn’t have an answer. Not allowing his thoughts to delve into their momentary encounter any longer, Cyrus focused on the task at hand. The wolf couldn’t afford to let his prey on too loose a leash. Now, more than ever, she couldn’t get away.
About the Author
Cristy Moran lives in Miami, FL. She is a college librarian some of the time, a reader and writer most of the time, and a knitter much less of the time than she was six months before she took up writing again. She’s also a nerd and a geek, and proud to be.
Cristy writes the books that she likes to read. Her women are strong and out-spoken and her men run the gamut. Love stories abound in Cristy's work because, really, aren't love stories the best? There's always a killer soundtrack running in the background of her novels - all you need to do is turn to the playlist to know what's up.
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