Kilting Me Softly: 1 by Persephone Jones Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Persephone Jones
it.
“Stay away from me—”
The bestial creature crept toward her without regard. “You left something behind.”
She’d like to leave something behind all right. His body in a thousand pieces. And this damned cursed place that brought her nothing but heartache.
“A dagger with blood all over it.”
No way he could have known anything about that. Dear Lord, had he been there? “I don’t know what you’re talking about but you better stay back.”
Conall McCade’s double circled her like a predator coming in for the kill. “Come come now. Or is that the point? You denied the poor bastard. And the knife? So ceremonial. So ritualistic. So rough .”
“So help me God.”
With another step, he was closing in on her. “It’s okay. Nobody gets it right the first time.”
“I said keep away!” Morgan stomped backward, maintaining the space between them as the clouds parted for the moon.
“Awww,” his voice purred to her in an all-too-familiar Scottish tongue. “Come on. Let me have a look at you.” He made a reach for her, his eyes a dirty yellow that made her weak.
Was he human at all? Her head shook at the realization of what was unfolding in front of her. The creature was changing. Into what, she didn’t want to know. Humans couldn’t physically transform. The human body couldn’t stretch or move like that. Not without severe injury anyway.
The man smiled in a mockery of what remained of its humanity. A strange random pop and crackle emanated from his joints and he visibly shuddered. Then the male spoke again in a voice that shook with altered pitch. “How good will you taste, I wonder?”
Morgan whimpered.
He appeared to sniff the air around them in wistful contemplation. “Linen, gardenia…and a hint of—”
Morgan read the discovery in his glowing eyes. He could smell her. All of her.
“Sex.”
She bit back a sob.
“I’ll make it fair.” The creature turned his broad back to her and exposed the ripped seams of his shirt. “I’ll give you a head start.”
Morgan turned in a full sprint and abruptly met the earth, her foot shin-deep in a hole. A large, bristled hand grabbed her and flipped her with one twist like she was a piece of meat on a spatula. When she looked back, he wiggled his clawed fingers at her in a maniacal wave. Struggling against his familiar shape, she had time to agonize over her fate. She would die here alone on the moors of Scotland, mutilated beyond recognition. Animals would cart off parts of her in their ravenous mouths to points unknown and there would be nothing left of her to bury. Not altogether unlike Megan. Even in death, they would be united by their fates.
The wolfen male moved with powerful ease behind her. Razor-sharp nails sliced long parallel slits down the back of her coat as she struggled against him. He had the advantage and there was little she could do to her assailant.
Still, she fought. By the grace of God one of her kicks landed a blow. She didn’t hesitate to deliver another but one lucky thrust proved enough. On her belly, she traversed the dark textured floor of the forest.
But the monster was quick. He grabbed her by the ankle, immobilizing her long enough that he could mount her flailing body from behind.
“I’m going to enjoy doing to you what you did to my brother.” The monster growled with sadistic glee and let out a howl that threatened to steal the wind right out of her. That sound, that horrid, soul-stealing sound…
Twigs snapped and leaves rustled all around them. She no longer felt the oppressive weight of the creature’s body on top of her. Getting to her feet, she spun around and prepared for a second offensive.
“Get away!” Morgan shrieked, but again something caught her, this time by the arms. It pushed her aside with such force that she lost her balance and fell to the ground again. Her fingernails dug into the cold earth when a growl from above rendered her immovable. Quaking with fear, an inner voice
“Stay away from me—”
The bestial creature crept toward her without regard. “You left something behind.”
She’d like to leave something behind all right. His body in a thousand pieces. And this damned cursed place that brought her nothing but heartache.
“A dagger with blood all over it.”
No way he could have known anything about that. Dear Lord, had he been there? “I don’t know what you’re talking about but you better stay back.”
Conall McCade’s double circled her like a predator coming in for the kill. “Come come now. Or is that the point? You denied the poor bastard. And the knife? So ceremonial. So ritualistic. So rough .”
“So help me God.”
With another step, he was closing in on her. “It’s okay. Nobody gets it right the first time.”
“I said keep away!” Morgan stomped backward, maintaining the space between them as the clouds parted for the moon.
“Awww,” his voice purred to her in an all-too-familiar Scottish tongue. “Come on. Let me have a look at you.” He made a reach for her, his eyes a dirty yellow that made her weak.
Was he human at all? Her head shook at the realization of what was unfolding in front of her. The creature was changing. Into what, she didn’t want to know. Humans couldn’t physically transform. The human body couldn’t stretch or move like that. Not without severe injury anyway.
The man smiled in a mockery of what remained of its humanity. A strange random pop and crackle emanated from his joints and he visibly shuddered. Then the male spoke again in a voice that shook with altered pitch. “How good will you taste, I wonder?”
Morgan whimpered.
He appeared to sniff the air around them in wistful contemplation. “Linen, gardenia…and a hint of—”
Morgan read the discovery in his glowing eyes. He could smell her. All of her.
“Sex.”
She bit back a sob.
“I’ll make it fair.” The creature turned his broad back to her and exposed the ripped seams of his shirt. “I’ll give you a head start.”
Morgan turned in a full sprint and abruptly met the earth, her foot shin-deep in a hole. A large, bristled hand grabbed her and flipped her with one twist like she was a piece of meat on a spatula. When she looked back, he wiggled his clawed fingers at her in a maniacal wave. Struggling against his familiar shape, she had time to agonize over her fate. She would die here alone on the moors of Scotland, mutilated beyond recognition. Animals would cart off parts of her in their ravenous mouths to points unknown and there would be nothing left of her to bury. Not altogether unlike Megan. Even in death, they would be united by their fates.
The wolfen male moved with powerful ease behind her. Razor-sharp nails sliced long parallel slits down the back of her coat as she struggled against him. He had the advantage and there was little she could do to her assailant.
Still, she fought. By the grace of God one of her kicks landed a blow. She didn’t hesitate to deliver another but one lucky thrust proved enough. On her belly, she traversed the dark textured floor of the forest.
But the monster was quick. He grabbed her by the ankle, immobilizing her long enough that he could mount her flailing body from behind.
“I’m going to enjoy doing to you what you did to my brother.” The monster growled with sadistic glee and let out a howl that threatened to steal the wind right out of her. That sound, that horrid, soul-stealing sound…
Twigs snapped and leaves rustled all around them. She no longer felt the oppressive weight of the creature’s body on top of her. Getting to her feet, she spun around and prepared for a second offensive.
“Get away!” Morgan shrieked, but again something caught her, this time by the arms. It pushed her aside with such force that she lost her balance and fell to the ground again. Her fingernails dug into the cold earth when a growl from above rendered her immovable. Quaking with fear, an inner voice