Kindred of the Fallen by Isis Rushdan Read Free Book Online

her direction.
    “Of course,” Talus said as she approached. “I put them in the car. No roses. Blush peonies, just as you instructed. And I got you this.” She thrust a box of chocolates toward him. “On commercials, human males are always buying chocolates and diamonds for women.”
    He raised an eyebrow at the heart-shaped box. Diamonds would have been more fitting. The corners of Talus’s mouth drooped and her eyes grew big. The look made him think of a wounded pup. Begrudgingly, he took the box. “Thank you. This is excellent initiative.”
    His ward’s face lightened. “Why did you pull me from surveillance? Did I do something wrong?”
    “You did nothing wrong. Surveillance is no longer necessary.”
    Talus stared at him as if waiting for him to elaborate. “I’ll wait in the car to drive you as soon you’re ready to go.”
    “I’ve asked Cassian to play chauffeur. Why don’t you take a couple of days off, go to the brownstone in the city and have fun? I’ll send your brother to join you later.”
    After Serenity’s reaction to Talus, he wanted the girl as far away as possible for now.
    “I did do something wrong.”
    He kissed her forehead. “This isn’t a punishment. It’s a reward for all your hard work.”
    Her face contorted into a grimace, but she nodded and left without protest.
    Cyrus scrutinized the red box of chocolates. He had to get Serenity to trust and desire him. Candy didn’t seem the best way to start.
    A union between kabashem , Blessed or not, could be precarious and never ensured harmony or happiness. His gaze fixed on the one-inch scar over Abbadon’s heart.
    “I’ve always wondered why you didn’t let the healer mend the wound completely.”
    Abbadon ran two fingers across the mark, his eyes cast down. “I keep it to remind me, duty before love. It would behoove you to bear the same in mind.”
     
     
    Trapped in a miasma of doubt, Serenity drifted in line at the arts and crafts store toward the register. Cyrus’s smile burned a hole in her mind. She couldn’t forget the sound of his melodic voice or the rush of elation from his touch.
    “Forty-two fifty,” the clerk said, bagging her items.
    Yanked from her thoughts, she dug in the satchel slung across her body and paid for her supplies. She took the bag and left the store, glancing at her watch. Two-thirty. Evan was probably nose-deep in files on the acquisition in his hotel in London.
    The fiery zing she’d felt from Cyrus blurred her clarity about marrying Evan in a haze of heat. The new hunger in her core, the lusty burn between her thighs tortured her. Until the other night, she was convinced either those darn magazine articles in Cosmo were full of horse pucky or she was a freak incapable of feeling genuine desire.
    She had tried to talk to Evan and confess her concerns about everything, but he was too wrapped up in the acquisition deal. Every time she looked at the engagement ring the same word repeated in her mind. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
    She needed to sketch and paint. Busy hands meant her mind would be preoccupied with something other than Cyrus. It wasn’t as if she’d ever see him again and even if she did, it’d change nothing. Only a calm and cool relationship could be controlled and trusted. By the time Evan returned, everything would be back to normal. She rifled through her bag of art supplies and realized she’d forgotten to buy a packet of charcoal sticks.
    With an aggravated shake of the bag, she turned to go back and stand in line for another twenty minutes. At the end of the block, a man closed the door of a shiny black SUV illegally parked in a bus zone and walked in her direction. Wiry and ripped, the tall guy had a thick mustache and dark ball cap. Their eyes met and he looked away, slowing in front of a window display of a store.
    Icicles prickled her spine and she froze. She would’ve dismissed him, no cause for concern, if she hadn’t seen the same man on her morning jog through