Black Scar Read Online Free Page A

a dent in the Blood Lust. For someone
recovering from a traumatic attack, he seemed to be suffering from a sudden
increased libido. Maybe he should take Logan up on her offer. The idea of her
assisting him with his Blood Lust appealed. The thought of those delicate,
feminine hands stroking his cock caused a moan of longing to escape his throat.
    Blood Lust or
not—he wanted her.

Chapter Four
     
    Today was the
day, and Marcus wouldn’t be delayed any longer. He wanted to see his face.
After drinking the foul tea concoction yesterday he didn’t remember much else.
He’d slept for hours and when he opened his eyes, Brennan stood and stared at
him from across the room. Something about the man was off-putting. He looked
like a kindly uncle with his apple cheeks and balding head, but his eyes
reflected a depth of menace and danger Marcus found disturbing.
    Brennan helped
him into the bathroom where he washed him as best he could with his arm in a
cast and leg in a splint. He shaved the undamaged side of his face and even
helped him onto the toilet. Now back in bed, he noticed for the first time a
large LED television sat on the dresser opposite.
    Brennan smiled.
“Brand new and all yours. Forty-six inch and a Blu-ray player. It’s to help
pass the time while you recover. I have movies you can borrow or tell me your
preference, lad, and I will purchase what you like.”
    “Compliments of
Deegan, I suppose?”
    “Aye, from the
Blackthorne Clan.”
    Marcus glanced at
the ring still sitting on the night table. The large and ornate piece of
jewelry had a serpent curled around a dagger with a black onyx as the eye.
    He turned to
Brennan. “HBO’s Deadwood , all three
seasons. That would pass the time nicely. Where is Logan McNeil?”
    Brennan moved
toward the door. “I’ll go fetch her.”
    Marcus lay against
the headboard and flinched as his bandaged back made contact. The temptation to
rip the bandages off his face while alone became hard to ignore, but he
supposed he should wait for his damned nursemaid.
    A few moments
later, Logan breezed into the room. The enticing aroma of warm vanilla was even
more intense than the day before. He could distinguish other scents as well.
His sense of smell always had been strong due to being a Thrope, but now with
his Vampire blood it seemed enhanced. Why was he only scenting Logan? His
nostrils flared and he inhaled. Hot vanilla wafers just taken from the oven,
allspice and nutmeg. Had she been baking?
    Brennan followed
behind her and stood on the opposite side of the room. Logan wore a pale-blue
sheer dress, which enhanced her shimmering diamond-colored eyes. He had only
seen her wear dresses, it enhanced her potent femininity. Her long flowing
white-blonde hair was tied in a ponytail that snaked over one shoulder.
    She sat on the
edge of the mattress and took his hand. His semi-erect prick snapped to
attention.
    “Are you feeling
better after your long sleep?”
    Jesus, even her
voice with that slight Scottish burr had him reacting. What in hell was going
on?
    “I guess.”
    Logan waved
Brennan over. He carried a small tray with scissors, mirror, gauze, and what
looked to be a bottle of antiseptic. She released his hand.
    What if nothing
had healed on his face? He subconsciously touched his mouth. The bandages on
the right side of his face stopped just above his upper lip. How lucky that his
mouth, chin, and jaw were not damaged in the attack. He could still talk and
eat. Marcus glanced at Logan’s sultry lips. And kiss, he hoped.
    “Are you ready,
lad, for the unveiling?” her soft voice soothed.
    “Yeah. Do it.”
    She cut through
the layers of gauze and peeled back the bandages. Marcus kept his gaze firmly
fixed on her, watching for any reaction, but she kept her emotions shuttered as
always.
    “Give me the
mirror.”
    “Marcus, you
should be prepared...”
    “Give me the
damned mirror!”
    Logan handed it
over, and he held it in front of him.
    Destruction,
devastation