Sliver of Silver (Blushing Death) Read Online Free Page B

throbbing in his neck as he ground his teeth.
    “I just got home, for Christ’s sakes,” I snapped.
    He watched me for a long moment, his pulse ticking an unsettling rhythm I felt in my entire being. Under his evaluating eye, I felt raw and open. I got up and went into the kitchen. I couldn’t handle his gaze, reading every thought on my face as if he was in my head. Slamming the cabinets, I shoved dirty dishes into the sink, shattering a few. I could buy more.
    “What happened today?” he asked, his voice cooed behind me in a gentler tone that seemed to untwist my insides and helped me relax. His tone almost made me think he cared. I almost believed he wasn’t there because Patrick had asked him to be, or that he felt some weird Pack duty to Danny. I didn’t want to be someone’s pity project or their burden. I could take care of myself, damn it. I turned with fury in my eyes.
    He leaned on the doorjamb to the kitchen with his arms folded across his chest like he belonged there, seeming less austere, more forgiving. He watched me with an expression I couldn’t fathom but made me tingle down to my toes. I swallowed hard and met his eyes.
    Only ten minutes earlier, I thought I wanted to be alone. Now that he looked at me with compassion—that’s what it was, compassion—I couldn’t keep the words back.
    “I was late going in to work again today. That damned body took longer than I thought and I got ‘the talk’ from my boss. You know the one,” I blurted as a tear rolled down my cheek. “One last chance to shape up or I’m out. You know what goes on around here,” I said, my bottom lip quivering. “I can’t do it.”
    That was it. That was the crux of it and why I was so upset. I knew in the end there was no way in hell I could make it. It was only a matter of time before I lost my job. I’d never been fired before. I’d never had someone tell me I couldn’t cut it. I’d killed a demon and a 500-year-old ninja assassin, for fuck’s sake, but I couldn’t cut it.
    He took a deep, uncomfortable breath, bowing his head as he stared down at the floor. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He wanted to fix it, to make it better for me. He couldn’t, no one could. Somewhere deep down, I think he understood that, too. Neither of us wanted to admit defeat.
    I reached over and placed my hand lightly on his tightly flexed forearm. A current of heat ran through my fingertips as the soft voice in my mind purred her delight. She’d been silent, leaving me alone in my anguish, but her purr was filled with longing and warmth.
    He tensed under my touch with a frightening jolt of electricity as his muscles turned to stone. I slowly removed my hand. If he didn’t want me to touch him, I wasn’t going to touch him. No harm, no foul.
    “Thanks anyway,” I whispered. The silence between us felt thick, like standing in mud. I didn’t know where this tension came from but it was uncomfortable.
    “What can you tell me about the body?” he asked, clearing his throat of the lingering hoarseness.
    “It was a woman, about 5’10” and 170 pounds, blond. They held her down at the shoulders. Her face was gone. Her guts were sprawled out all over the grass and her chest was a sloppy damned mess. I’m pretty sure her kidneys were gone. I didn’t see them lying around anywhere and the abdomen was pretty empty. I think she was still alive though, when they started. She bled out . . . a lot,” I said, pouring myself a glass of water and taking a small sip.
    “They ate her?” he asked, standing straighter.
    “Yes.”
    His eyes narrowed on me, bright Caribbean blue flooding his olive-green irises.
    “It looked like she was gnawed on a little but not that they sat down for a full meal. There was too much of her still intact.” I shrugged.
    “She was your height, your weight, blond?” he asked, giving me a once over. He had a menace behind his eyes that didn’t match the calm, cool tone.
    “I didn’t