Intimidator
Preyfinders, #2
by Cari Silverwood
This is Book 2 in the new Preyfinder series.
Book 1, Precious Sacrifice, is currently in the anthology, Kept.
Book 1, Precious Sacrifice, (part of the Kept anthology) can be purchased here: http://www.amazon.com/Kept-Erotic-Anthology-Sorcha-Black-ebook/dp/B00IR33PVS/
Stom has been observing Willow at a
pub, waiting for his chance to kiss her, so he can claim her.
*****
He’d follow after a few minutes, see
where she went. Then Stom’s warrior-enhanced hearing picked up a small shriek,
far away, but close enough to be just outside this building.
Her.
As he ran for the door behind the
bar, hurdling the counter and sweeping glasses and bottles to the floor with
the tail of his coat, he left behind a thunder of smashing glass. People yelled
for him to stop. But out of all this, apart from his anxiety over her safety,
his one other concern was that he’d recognized that cry. Anyone else he’d seen
here tonight could sing an entire song and he’d not know who it was.
Why was this so?
Be inconspicuous? So he guessed that
meant he shouldn’t use the twin 357 Magnums he wore in a double underarm
holsters, or the sub-compact Heckler & Koch MP5 slung at his back beneath
the coat, or the... Pity. He could make such a mess with all these neat human
weapons.
On his way through the kitchen, he
snatched up a bunch of knives and forks and stuck them into a pocket.
He thrust open the back door and
counted back the number of spectators he’d run past. Five, minus whoever was
outside. It would do. He could hear the two men somewhere around the corner
murmuring threats at Willow. He growled and stalked forward. If he killed these
two, maybe that meant he didn’t have to count them?
The brick wall of the pub dog-legged
to the right and he followed it into a short alley. At the far end, past a
half-open dumpster, was a quiet street with a warehouse and a few cars. One
insect-shrouded streetlight shed meager light. He kept going past the dumpster
and found them.
They had her backed into a double
door, with Turf holding her wrists above her head. Skull-head had his palm over
her mouth and was shoving her T-shirt up above her bra. She was trying to kick
them and screaming muffled curses. The man removed his palm from her face long
enough to slap her hard, once.
A rage like he’d not felt for eons
shrieked in and tore his notions of serenity into scrap-sized pieces.
Cari Silverwood is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of BDSM stories and dark erotic fiction. She writes the way the world should be - dangerous and sexy with bullets piercing the darkness and lovers wrenched close by ropes. When you need escape, when you need that rough lover to bring you to your knees, here you will find stories to singe your fingers. The taste of adventure, the tang of BDSM, the burn of fantasy run wild. Brace yourselves, if you dare to read. And...in this real world, she has a lovely family in Australia, with the prerequisite teenager who dwells in the dark bedroom catacombs...a husband who raises eyebrows when he catches glimpses of what she writes, and a menagerie of other animals barking, meowing, and swimming about the place.
No comments:
Post a Comment