Lailah (The Styclar Saga) Read Online Free

surprised he had even attempted any form of thanks. Something about the way he looked at me was chilling; I didn’t dare ask any more questions.
    I got up and started puttering about nervously. I could hear how difficult it was for him to breathe. Despite his arrogance, I found myself softening toward him once more. But then I’d soften even for a raging killer pit bull if it were in pain.
    Reaching for my bottled water, I offered it to him. He simply snorted. I’d forgotten for a moment. Putting it down, I reached over to the sleeping bag; it had fallen away from around Jonah’s body. Instinctively, I yanked it nearer to his shoulders.
    Without warning, he grabbed my wrist, flinching as his injuries met my skin, and taking me by surprise. I flashed my eyes to meet his. He held me so tightly I couldn’t break free. The Vampire tilted his head and pulled me in. My heart began to thud, and I froze, filling with fear.
    Crap, maybe this hadn’t been a smart idea after all.
    Running his lips close to my neck, his breath tickling my skin, I found my insides doing strange somersaults, and suddenly I wasn’t afraid anymore. His bottom lip skimmed my earlobe, sending little shock waves through me. He lingered and then whispered, “I meant … thank you.” His words were sincere and soft—I felt my heart flutter.
    He released my wrist and I hovered over him, searching his eyes. They bore into mine. I indulged myself, feeling both confused and elated, but after a few minutes, I broke the connection and slid away. I didn’t want or need the distraction of Jonah, a Vampire no less, derailing my thoughts away from Gabriel. Even if sometimes it felt as though I was hopelessly searching for a ghost.
    I made my way into the bare kitchen to retrieve some more logs for the fire. I was glad I’d gathered them this morning, before I went in for my shift at the pub.
    Sitting on the floor, I absorbed the situation and took a few minutes to myself. I would help him however I could because if I knew anything about myself, it was that I was a good person. And perhaps in exchange he might share some insights into his world; he might have some clues about what I was, and where I belonged. It was an extremely dangerous game, but what choice did I have? I returned to the living room and added the wood to the fire. We sat for what felt like hours in silence. Eventually he broke it.
    “Is this where you live?” He raised his eyebrows as he strained to take in the hollow shell around him.
    “For now.”
    “You’re not from here,” he guessed. “This place isn’t your home.”
    “Home is wherever I hang my hat. I don’t exactly belong. Time just goes by, the people change, scenery changes. I don’t change.” I teased a little, testing his reaction.
    He tilted his head to the right at my response; he was trying to figure me out. “Your eyes … they’re older than your smile, but you’re not like me,” he mused aloud. “But you’re not, well, human either.”
    “What would make you think I’m not human?” I rebutted, a little too high-pitched, feeling slightly offended. I had never considered myself unhuman.
    “You have no scent. I didn’t know you were coming until you were in front of me.”
    I considered that for a moment. As far as I was concerned, I was human, even if I apparently couldn’t die—well, not in the conventional manner. “So what? Given your condition, perhaps your senses are somewhat impaired,” I reasoned. I didn’t want to give too much away, not yet.
    “What are you exactly?” he said, dismissing my vague reply.
    I pondered for a moment. “I suppose that’s the million-dollar question,” I said. “Oh, and by the way, I don’t remember smiling at you.”
    That made him laugh a little and I flushed, unable to stop a grin spreading over my face.
    “See? You do like me after all.” He choked, shuddering, and shifted uncomfortably, seemingly trying to subdue the overwhelming agony that flowed