Raven (Legends Saga Book 2) by Stacey Rourke Read Free Book Online Page B

apartment with an impressive amount of force.
    “I’m so glad you’re here,” she fretted, both of her quaking hands clinging to Noah’s wrist. “I’ve never seen him like this before! You must help!”
    “ Uh … if you called for some kind of assistance, we aren’t it,” Noah stammered, his confused gaze drifting to the vacant, yet extremely expensive looking, fish tanks that lined both sides of the stark white hallway. “We’re here about a piece of artwork—Ireland?”
    Ireland caught his hint, knew that to be her cue to thrust her tattooed arm forward for the question and answer portion of their visit. Unfortunately, the perplexing matters of her own cursed existence couldn’t break through unexpected fog clouding her mind.
    True darkness lurked within those walls. It batted its lashes , curled one taloned finger, and beckoned her closer. Shuffling forward without an actual invitation, Ireland heard nothing but the seductive symphony of her racing heart thumping against her ribs. 
    “It’s like stumbling into the nest of the Skymall core demographic,” Noah muttered, taking in the white, leather, and chrome décor. His quippy comment cut off short as his gaze fell on his hypnotized sweetie.
    Ireland could feel the heat of his stare boring into her back and wanted to reassure him, but couldn’t tear herself from the magnetic pull tethered to her very core.
    “Ireland? ” Noah ventured. “You okay? You’re not in need of that certain special piece of jewelry I’m holding, are you?” 
    “ There’s no time!” the woman, Ireland assumed to be Lupé, insisted. Hooking her arm through Ireland’s, she herded her in the direction of the open French doors that led out onto the balcony. “He’s going to fall! You must help him!”
    Feeling her skin was scorching beneath Lupé’s touch, Ireland shook herself free. There he stood, the beacon of darkness that had called to her. Perched atop the cement ledge that acted as the balcony rail, his stare cast ten stories straight down. Shocked gasps and whispered plans buzzed around her, annoying as a bothersome fly. Ireland swallowed hard and flicked her tongue over suddenly dry lips. Stepping out on to the balcony, the wind whipping her hair from her face, Ireland gaped in awe at … Ridley .
    “A parade of fallen angels. Their sin? A simple step.” His chin tipped toward her, allowing her no further acknowledgment than his perfectly carved profile. “I can see them all.”
    “ Has he self-medicated in some fashion?” Rip asked, straddling the balcony threshold to maintain a safe distance from the potential jumper. “I once tried opiates and thought myself to be a barn owl.”
    “No, sir, ” Lupé fretted, nervously wringing her hands. “He tried a friend’s homemade absinthe once. Made him think he was Spiderman and he got stuck up in the ceiling rafters for three hours. After that he swore he would never do anything like that again.”
    “He’s not on drugs.” Th ough the words slipped from Ireland’s lips, their deep gravel tremor belonged to another.  “He’s cursed.”
    Ridley’s spine straightened in response. Crossing one leg over the other, he slowly turned their way. This simple, yet dangerous move caused Lupé to clamp a hand over her terrified yelp. The man they had met mere hours ago was gone, robbed of his polished perfection. His onyx hair darted out in a disheveled mess. The peaches and cream pallor of his skin had drained ashen. A shadow of stubble had sprouted across his jawline and lip, sharpening his features and giving him an alluring edge of mystery.
    “Gliding in on raven ’s wings, came the father of the notion that the divide between life and death is a vague one.” Even with the others pacing anxiously behind her, Ridley’s stare locked on Ireland alone. Clouds of emotion rolled into his eyes, swirling and churning in a deep storm blue. “He claimed we’re the same, he and I. Took me on a stroll into the