Libra Ascending: An Epic Urban Fantasy Romance (Zodiac Guardians Book 1) by Tamar Sloan (adult books to read .TXT) 📗

What has she gotten herself into?

He leans closer still. “You know, don’t you. You know I’m not lying.”

She clears her throat and looks around, anywhere but at him. “What time is it? I should probably get going.”

“This isn’t a joke, Brielle,” he says, all play gone from his tone and expression. “I really am an alien prince. The Heir to be the next Gemini Zodiac Guardian, to be exact. Seventeen years ago, my planet was attacked by the greatest evil in the Universe, and I was sent to Earth for protection, along with twelve other Zodiac Guardian Heirs. Now it’s my responsibility to locate them, and I believe you might be one of them.”

Alarm bells were ringing before, but now they’re a siren, a cascade of screaming for Brielle to get out of there.

Tristan believes every single thing he just said to her. He’s insane! And absolutely not the kind of person she should be involving herself with, not on the eve of her possible adoption. She needs to be normal, and this guy is as far from normal as it gets.

“I really do have to go.” She puts her hands on the table and stands up to leave.

“Please, wait.” He shoots up and puts his hand on top of hers. “I had a vision about you. You’re in danger.”

How could his touch burn in the most delicious way even as his words make her want to run?

“Whatever you’re involved in, I just can’t right now, Tristan,” she says, pulling away. “I have to go.” She hops over the bench and takes her uneaten fro-yo to the garbage can.

“At least let me drive you,” he implores, walking after her.

“No, my bike is at the school, I can get it on my own.”

To her relief, he doesn’t follow as she walks back toward their school.

How could she have so grievously misjudged him? Tristan’s a bucketful of crazy in a charming, handsome package. And she has no room for crazy in her life. She has enough of her own crazy to sweep under the rug.

Disappointment stings Brielle’s eyes. The attraction, the date, it had all felt like a sign that things were looking up. That she might deserve to have what others take for granted.

That she could be...normal.

Straightening her shoulders, she shakes off the feeling that this is an omen. At least now she can focus on what’s really important. The only thing that had ever been important.

Find a family.

Belong.

7

Tristan

Dammit.

Dammit.

Dammit.

Tristan watches Brielle hurry away, her shoulders hunched around herself protectively. He went in too hard, too fast.

What was he thinking? He’s never done that before. There’s a formula—smile, connect, ask some questions about their parents, probe for anything unusual.

This time he smiled. She smiled. They connected.

And that’s where he lost it.

Because the sense of connection was different to anything he’s ever experienced. It threw the formula out. And then she said she could sense lies. Could that be a superpower? Could she be…

Shaking his head, Tristan heads back to his car. The vision this morning has got him on edge. Add that to the growing uneasiness as they keep coming up empty handed, town after town, and he let the impatience get a hold of him.

Until he learns otherwise, it was nothing more than that.

And now Brielle’s hightailing it, thinking he’s one short of a baker’s dozen. Climbing into the car, Tristan grips the steering wheel. It’s time to do some digging.

Taking a left at the end of the block, Tristan glances in the rear view mirror. It’s a habit Zarius instilled in him from the day he learned to drive. Always be aware of your surroundings, Tristan. You’re not the only one looking for the Zodiac Heirs.

A group of girls are entering Creamy Dreams and a flash of blonde catches the light. Cassandra. Will she be killed by a Skin? Will he fail to get to her in time?

And why the hell does Chardis go after her in the first place?

Tristan’s knuckles turn white as he stops at a set of traffic lights. The public library is only a couple of blocks away—always the first place to check when they arrive in a new town. And today, more than ever, he needs answers.

His cell dings as he parks the car, Tess’s name lighting up the screen.

You at the library?

Tristan smiles. Great, he’s becoming predictable.

Yep. If all goes well, I’ll be getting dirty.

Most people of this generation don’t realize that there’s a wealth of information that doesn’t exist on the internet. It’s found in the archives and basements of libraries. Under about six feet of dust.

I’ll head over. I’ve got some photos for you to check out.

And I’ll bring brownies.

“I do love you, Tess.” Tristan chuckles as he tucks his cell back in his pocket.

Tristan pauses outside the library. It’s an old building like many of them are, brick without a lot of windows. But it’s not the one from his vision. Not large enough. No sense of familiarity.

Pushing open the door, Tristan breathes in the scent of books and—he tilts his head—is that cinnamon? And sugar? A soft chime echoes somewhere in the back and he hears the sound of a paper bag scrunching up, then rushed, uneven footsteps.

Seems the librarian has a limp. And they just finished some cinnamon donuts.

Tristan walks through the shelves of books, not really paying attention. Most libraries have the fiction section up the front, people never realizing there’s an evil out there far scarier than the ones crafted in the pages.

Because this one is real.

The nonfiction is always relegated to the back, which is fine by Tristan. He’s not here to hang out away from prying adult eyes like so many people his age are. He’s here for information.

The smell of sugar and cinnamon gets stronger, and the area opens out to reveal a large desk to the left. An older man, tall and slightly gray, is standing with his back to Tristan,