Forsaking (Vampire Assassin League Book 26) Read Online Free

tastes, but the younger Stimson was easier to deal with. Especially if she had her sister for company. Because when the girls were present, Daddy Dearest wasn’t.
    Marielle had finished the morning meeting, re-dressed in the baggiest, most worn overalls she owned. Re-fastened her hair more securely before stuffing the hat atop it. Sketched a bit in her notebook as she waited for the girls to get out of private school. Then she’d grabbed up her paints, joined the group in the fancy Special Order van, and driven out here.
    Maybe she should reconsider things.
    All of the ex-Missus’ Stimsons seemed to have a lot of time and money after the divorce. She would, too. Why...she’d have enough to open her own art studio. Where she could paint and exhibit all day, every day. His first offer had been a week ago. It had included a huge diamond on a platinum band, alongside a long legal-looking prenuptial agreement he wanted her to sign. The latest offer had an even bigger rock and an offer to forego the prenup. He’d received the same answer every time. It was getting easier. The first time, Marielle had been in shock or something. She couldn’t remember how, but she’d escaped his office in the casino, made it to her apartment, done up every lock, bundled up in a blanket, and sat in the center of the living room, shivering for what felt like hours. And if she had any other source of income she’d have disappeared.
    The answer was always going to be no. She shuddered. The platform beneath her swayed and creaked again. Mister Stimson was short, pot-bellied, mostly bald, well past sixty... She stopped her mental listing. It wouldn’t matter what he looked like, if only they had some connection. Anything. They didn’t seem to have any common interests at all. She couldn’t marry him. Having sex with him was out of the question. Even with the lights off and her eyes closed.
    Wow
.
    She could sure use a break in her life about now.
    And right on cue, she got one.
    One of the ladders holding her platform buckled. Marielle held the palette high with one hand and grabbed for a building support beam with her other hand. She missed. She bent, riding the board as the world tipped and swayed. The entire thing resembled a long-legged creature settling onto its belly as it collapsed; one side first, then the other. And then it jettisoned her right through the saloon’s permanently open door as if she was atop a surfboard.
    It probably looked pretty cool. It didn’t feel it. She grabbed for the boot rail along the bottom of the bar with her free hand, and rolled off the plank. It continued on without her, smacking into a far wall and sounding pretty painful for anyone still aboard. That noise was instantly followed by the strangest whisper. It was accompanied by a slight shimmying sensation of the floor. A sound that resembled a long sigh. And then she could swear she caught the vaguest impression of gears moving.
    Marielle peeked around the bar. There was a dark hole in the floor, shadowed and hidden by the bar. She watched it finish assembling into a set of really small, narrow steps. Going down. Explaining Susan’s correct guess of a hollow sound.
    Marielle was very aware of things that couldn’t be seen or touched. Her mother had called her ‘fey’. Said it came with the territory of being part Irish. It accompanied her looks. She was one of the ‘black Irish’. Blessed with raven-hair. Pale, porcelain-skin. Vivid blue eyes. Lush dark lashes. And a sixth sense that meant a black hole should be avoided.
    That isn’t what happened.
    This dark gap intrigued and fascinated. Beckoned. Drew. Almost like it had known she was coming and opened just for her. She set the palette onto the floor with a glance. This was pretty unbelievable. She’d just escaped a major fall without injury...and she hadn’t upset her paint palette? She even had the brush although it had rolled through the paint dabs and was multi-hued now. Upon standing,