Cross My Heart by Elizabeth Morgan (motivational novels for students .TXT) 📗
- Author: Elizabeth Morgan
Book online «Cross My Heart by Elizabeth Morgan (motivational novels for students .TXT) 📗». Author Elizabeth Morgan
The houses wereclassy. It was easy to see why they had been selected for theColony Nest. Each house had six floors and ample rooms and plentyof ways in and out. It was elaborate and deceiving, and quiteperfect from what I had read about Michael.
The first floor wassmaller, the hallway recognisably shorter. The glass door at thetop of the stairs led out onto a rooftop terrace, the hallway onlyhaving two other doors lining the walls. I moved to the first one,peering round the wood as it lay open. Surprisingly, the mahoganydining table still stood upright with the chairs all neatly pushedunder. I walked around the room, past the fireplace and through theopen archway into another sitting room. This one seemed a littlefuller. A little more personal.
The red sofas had beentipped over, and the coffee table in the centre lay flat, the fancylegs collapsed beneath. The fire still blazed in the fireplace.Trinkets and photographs lined the mantel, but it was the hugeportrait hanging above that caused me to stop and stare. A manstood by a large window, the countryside visible on the other sideof the glass. I couldn’t name his clothing, but the top was puffyand vibrant. It looked like he wore leggings and a dress, with ahigh white frilled collar that looked heavy and tight enough tochoke you, which might explain his pale complexion. Narrow, blackeyes starred down at me under thick black eyebrows. His hair wasraven black and curled at the ends, stopping beneath his ears.
My gaze fell to thegold plaque at the base of the intricate frame. “Lord Michael JohnKirk.”
So, this was theColony Leader back in his hay day? The stories and information Ihad heard and read started to make sense.
“So, you’re thebastard that fucked so much up?” I asked the portrait.
The planes of his facewere sharp and harsh, his lips thin and unforgiving. Maybe it wasjust the way the artist had painted him, but I could see the coldbrutality burning in his dark eyes. Yeah, it was easy to see howthis young Vampire had become Colony leader.
“Well, I hope shekilled you. I hope you suffered,” I said, before making my way backout to the hallway and ascending the next flight of stairs.
The remaining threefloors were smaller in length. The master bedroom on the secondfloor was clearly Michael’s. I was sure I would have guessed rightregardless, but the fact that he had at least four more portraitsof himself hanging up was a big clue. His walk-in wardrobe wasimpressive and filled with top design suits and the odd casualitem. Not one sign of jeans or T-shirts in sight.
The smaller rooms onthe last two floors were nice, the décor not matching the flow ofthe house, but then, most of the Vampires here would be youngerthan Michael and naturally wouldn’t share his rich tastes. Apartfrom the rooms being a tad messy, nothing was broken. There was nosign of a struggle or any indication that any Leeches had beenslaughtered up here.
As I descended thestairs, making my way down to the basement level, it dawned on methat any Vampires who had been on the uppers level would have madetheir way downstairs at the sound of intruders and fighting. Still,checking every floor and room was the smart thing to do.
Needless to say, Iwasn’t surprised to find that the lower doorway which was similarto the one Nathan and I had used had also been broken open, thedifference being that someone had barged into this one, knocking itoff its hinges. The black painted wood lay on the floor beforeanother small end room filled with fridges and freezers. A sneaklook confirmed that they were filled with blood.
“Elle?” Nathan’s voiceechoed throughout the house.
Every hair on my bodystood on end. I sprinted up the stairway, the hilt of my daggerstill resting firmly in my hand.
As I reached thelanding of the centre house, a loud snarl met my ears, pulling myattention to the right. The air caught in my throat at the sight ofthe black Werewolf standing amongst the ruined furniture in thesitting room of the third house.
“I asked you aquestion,” came an unfamiliar male voice. “Where did you get theseclothes?”
I moved into the roomto find Nathan pinned halfway up the wall situated next to thefireplace, held by his T-shirt which was balled up in the fist ofan athletic, shirtless, blond man.
“Let him go.” I sankas much lead into my voice as I could muster, my focus flickeringbetween the two and the very large Werewolf whose piercing ice-bluegaze had turned on me.
“Found someone,”Nathan said dryly. His eyes were trained on the Werewolf, his facea mixture of disbelief and wonder. The hold he had on the male’swrist was pointless as he didn’t even seem fazed by the fact thathis feet had left the floor.
The blond’s attentionturned to me. A strong jaw line accompanied by high cheekbones anda roman nose. He could pass for a businessman, and at the look ofhis lean biceps and flexing six-pack, one that took care ofhimself. But it was his eyes that ruined his calm, collectedappearance. And those dark, swirling grey irises were narrowed onme.
His nostrils flared.“You’re human.”
It was stated as afact and not a question, but still, I nodded.
“You know this Leech?”His attention moved back to Than, his fist tightened in the blackmaterial.
“He’s with me.”
The Werewolf snorted.Not a reaction that seemed fitting with such creatures. It wasalmost too human.
“He’s a friend.”
The male’s headsnapped back to me, anger, confusion, and disgust fighting fordominance on his face.
“Friend?” He spat theword.
“Aye, has been sincechildhood.” The reply seemed stupid considering the circumstances,but the need to point the fact out seemed important.
That caused the male’sbrow to furrow further. “He’s a Vampire.”
“Only has been for afew weeks. He’s useless.”
“Hey!” That snappedNathan out of his daydream and earned me a scowl.
The Werewolf growled,a
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