TRICK OF THE LIGHT: Chapter 1
Dressed in my Rugby shirt and panties, it didn’t feel like a silk night, I climbed under the red bedspread and turned off the bedside light. I’d only dozed off when I had a feeling, smelt spice, and then the springs of the mattress gave under a warm weight that straddled my hips. I heard the soft, dark words, “I want to touch you so badly. Your bare skin, the silk of your hair…,” as I reached down, pulled my shotgun from beneath the mattress and had it jammed under Solomon’s jaw in less than three seconds. I could see his shadowed eyes in the street light that seeped through the blinds.
This is why I’d kept my favored silk sleepwear in the drawer tonight. Solomon and his games. I’d suspected he wasn’t done when he’d left the bar.
“I don’t know what chick flick you stole that from, but you deserve your money back,” I said as I pulled back the hammer.
“Not a good time then, I take it?” he asked with amused gravity.
The steel of the trigger was as cool against my finger as the sheets were against my skin. “An absolutely perfect time,” I disagreed with dark cheer. He was shirtless but at least was wearing pants. If he hadn’t been, I think he knew I would’ve blown his head off right then and there.
“So stubborn. Pity.” The corner of his mouth quirked up and although he didn’t move, the weight of him seemed even heavier and far more intimate. Then he shimmered out of existence.
His chest had been as lightly furred as I thought it’d be and broad. Did demons have some sort of Hot Male Body Catalogue to choose from? Snorting at myself, I replaced the gun after easing the hammer back down and turned over on my stomach. Solomon could put on any face or body he wanted—I’d never forget what was on the inside. I wouldn’t let myself. This time I went instantly to sleep. And I had dreams….
Not the kind you’d think
I dreamed of blue-green water, black sand, and blood.
So much blood.
More than anyone could hope to live without.
ALSO IN THIS SERIES
THE GRIMROSE PATH: Trickster, Book 2
