The Becoming Trilogy Box Set (Books 1-3) by Jess Raven, Paula Black Read Free Book Online

trying to piece
together this woman’s obvious affection for something that had seemed
terrifying enough to spark her nightmares. ‘What’s Form?’
    Liath raised her face to the
sun, basking in the gentle heat. ‘It’s a club in town. They’re always serving,
they never close and they pay their girls really well. The tips alone cover my
bills.’ At Ash’s look, a laugh crinkled at the corners of gentle green eyes.
‘Oh no, not that , love. Strictly waitressing, though my uniform is more
stripper than waitress.’ She gave a small shrug as she looked back into her
house and its hallway inhabited by an army of toys. ‘You should come by some
night, even if Connal isn’t there.’
    ‘Thanks,’ Ash replied. ‘Can I
ask you something?’
    ‘Sure.’
    ‘Do you know what a latent is?’ Connal had called her the ‘new latent .’ Ash could only think it
might be local slang for something. If she found out it meant hooker, she'd
take more than a frying pan to his head.
    Liath looked vacant. ‘Not a
clue, sorry’ she shrugged. ‘Why do you ask?’
    Any response that might have
left Ash’s lips at that point was cut off by a child’s cry, a loud ‘Mammy!’
hollered tearily from somewhere within. She smiled at Liath and waved off her
apology.
    ‘Go, I’m good. I swear. It’s
nice to know I didn’t get broken into. I’ll just invest in some more locks.’ By
way of reassurance, Ash two thumbs-upped the woman and wandered back, taking
the steps down from the doorway with another wave, extra cheery. She returned
to the dwellings of insanity to seek out a locksmith and maybe plan what she
would say if she ever came across the man-mountain named Connal.
     
     
     

CHAPTER EIGHT

     
     
    A sh may have lain awake that night, huddled beneath the
covers and listening for intruders that never materialised, but eventually,
fatigue wore her down and she was dragged into the kind of deep, dead sleep she
hadn’t enjoyed for months. When she finally awoke to the hound tickling her
feet, she wondered at the restorative powers of a dreamless night.
    God, she was about to jump
out of her skin. When you get up in the morning with the jitters and no
caffeine in sight, you have permission to freak out. She was bouncing on the
balls of her feet and rolling her shoulders like a prize fighter about to step
into the ring. Maybe it was something in the water. She felt powerful and weak,
all at the same time. She felt sexy, turning this way and that in front of the
mirror, naked. She didn’t feel fat with her more than average curves. No, the
longer she stared, the more she thought the word voluptuous could
actually be applied to her.
    She felt high.
    Or what she assumed it felt
like to be high.
    Ash was still buzzing as she
pulled on some clothes.
    ‘Mutt!’ He came bounding
eagerly, streaking through the hallway to skid to a stop at her feet, his
muzzle on her chest as he gazed up at her with expectant eyes and a thudding
tail. ‘We’re going for a walk.’ The thudding increased, thumping against the
wood flooring with enough force to create its own little cyclone of air. Leash
clipped to his collar, Ash stepped out into the murky noon that had settled
over Dublin and let him off for a run in the small patch of rural overgrown
behind the square of houses.
    When she would have returned
to the house, the skies broke their cover to spear her in shafts of sunlight
and it was game over. No sense in wasting the sun to sit indoors and play sorter
to a bunch of musty papers. She spun on her heel and tugged the pup into the
centre of town to explore.
    A light covering of clouds
blotted out the sun and she eventually returned home, barrelling through the
front door into the cool of the house. Out of breath and sheened in sweat, she
felt hot to her very core. His hands, those fiery,
light-her-up-and-melt-her-down hands, could have been on her skin again, and
she was damn sure she would have scorched her intruder with the flush