By Grace Hansen
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She held on and didn‟t pass out, forcing herself to stay conscious. She let her head fall to one side in a fake faint and closed her eyes, peeking through her lashes, ready for any vulnerable movement. When her attacker lifted off her, she was ready. This time she didn‟t make any mistakes, and before he realized she was conscious she‟d kicked up as hard as she could and caught him in the tender area between balls and ass. Her attacker howled in pain and she followed up her advantage, coming to her feet in one swift movement, knees bent, legs spread for balance.
Can you hear what I‟m doing there? A chuckle, as if she‟d made a joke. Not if you don‟t want me to. I‟ll be discreet and close my eyes and ears, though I‟ll know if you get into trouble. How will you do that? I‟ll monitor your emotions. Wow, this was a new world. Brave or not remained to be seen. Ten minutes later, she‟d made it to the psychology stack. Situated in a small extension, it was approached by a couple of wooden stairs that creaked whenever anyone trod on them so it was a good place for a private conversation.
There‟s more disinformation about vampires than about any other Talent. ” “You should try being a dragon,” Sandro said dryly. He looked around at the unconscious bodies. ” He fixed Johann with a piercing stare. ” Johann‟s smile had nothing humorous about it. Only wicked anticipation. ” Sandro moved away from Megan after one gentle touch on her shoulder and picked up one of the men he‟d taken, slinging the inert body over one shoulder as if he weighed nothing at all. They stacked the bodies close together on the sidewalk and left the dead man where he was.
Bill Clinton by Grace Hansen