Thursday, June 27, 2013
Who wants a little taste of what's to come in book 2 of The Ragnarok Legacy? You do? Of course you do! Enjoy the tease, darqlings!
I found myself almost twitching as I heard footsteps outside my apartment door. It wasn't the best neighborhood, and I unsheathed the massive bowie knife I kept on me at all times. If someone was gonna break in, they were about to have a very bad night. Green eyes sharp, I stared at the doorknob as it began to turn, my heart in my throat and my stomach dropping to my toes as the adrenaline flooded my system. It was quickly becoming an eternity I didn't have the patience for, waiting for the door to open.
Keyed up from a trying day, I closed the gap between us, reaching around the small aperture and yanking the assailant into my apartment. Flinging him to the floor as I leapt atop him, I kicked the door shut. Long blade bare and braced against my forearm, I held the edge tight against a throat that was pale and chilly like the damp earth of a grave. My stomach did a little flip of its own, and not because of the now useless adrenaline.
I stared down into a pair of steel grey eyes that I knew all too well. To mask the panicked pitter patter of my heart, I half growled, "You let me pin you. How in the hell am I supposed to really defend myself if you're taking it easy on me?"
Before I could blink, the whole world shifted and I was pressed flat against the hardwood floor, my knife being forced from my hands with an impotent clatter. My wrists were both trapped in the iron grip of one of his hands, the other trailing with gossamer grace over the jumping pulse in my throat. He leaned in close, his lustrous black curls begging to be touched. The smell of his aftershave was heady, only giving him more power over me.
"Is this better, my little jotunn?"
I squirmed, uncomfortable and hoping my voice was steady. "I'm not little, Jame." My words, thankfully, didn't quiver.
He inhaled deeply, his lips so close to my throat that I could feel the moisture from his breath. "No protesting the 'mine' portion?" His lips moved to my ear and I thought my heart was going to burst out of my ribcage, a teasing noise like a purr caressing the flesh. "I could hear your heartbeat through the door, Kacea. So smooth and rhythmic. Not all jittery and erratic like it is now. And your blood..." His fingers spasmed around my wrists, like he was having trouble staying in control. "I could smell you before I even came in the building."
In the five years I’d spent with the vampire, not once had he tasted my blood. At that moment, I felt it was going to change, and I wasn’t completely opposed to the idea. But I wasn’t wholly for it, either.
“Jamison.” He lifted his head, eyes meeting mine, and my heart skipped a beat. The cool grey eyes I’d become accustomed to were brimming with red, even the sclera were the deep crimson of freshly spilled blood.
“I could drink you to the last drop, and you’d be powerless to stop me.” His voice wasn’t his own, full of something eldritch and borderline evil. Almost… soulless.
I stopped struggling, feeling like it was appealing to his predatory nature and doing me more harm than good. “But you aren’t going to,” I said, hoping my words sounded more sure than I felt.