Burning Skies Read Online Free PDF

and had been an oh-so-willing, whimpering, moaning participant. There had been no doubt in his mind that had they not been interrupted, he would have taken her then and there and she would have been with him all the way.
    But Luken, thank God, had stopped him. He’d peeled him off Havily, beaten the shit out of him, and essentially knocked some sense into his head.
    Marcus had never been so out of control as that last night on Second Earth. Afterward, he’d apologized to the Warriors of the Blood then folded back to Mortal Earth, back here to his home on Bainbridge. He’d considered apologizing to Havily as well, but he hadn’t trusted himself to be anywhere near her.
    Now he stood by an open window, in the early hours of the morning, knowing that something had happened to her tonight and wondering what the hell to do about it. His protective urges rose, a line of restless stallions, ready to gallop but nowhere to go.
    He thought about calling her; then his rational mind stepped up to the gate and shut him down but good. He had nothing to offer Havily, and to be calling her and asking if she was all right would suggest that he had some kind of intention of getting involved in her life and he sure as hell wasn’t going to do that.
    Havily lived on Second Earth, one whole dimension away. Most of his nineteen corporations had dealings with Second Earth but he never went there himself, not for business, not for any reason. He had plenty of support staff, self-exiled vampires who made regular dimensional trips to Second Earth, all by legal permit, to conduct and foster his various businesses.
    No, he had no real reason to call Havily, not now, not ever.
    There was, however, someone he could call who could give him information—and she would definitely be up this time of night.
    He crossed the room to his nightstand. Picking up his interdimensional iPhone, he thumbed the screen.
    “This is Jeannie. How can I help?”
    “Hey, Jeannie.” Would she recognize his voice?
    “Warrior Marcus,” she shrieked, then toned it down immediately. “That is, good evening, Warrior Marcus, how can I help?”
    Marcus laughed. He’d known Jeannie a very long time, long before his departure from Second Earth two hundred years ago. She worked at Central Command, manning the communications night after night between Thorne and all the Warriors of the Blood. She’d been a good friend to him through the centuries; she was one reason he’d hated to leave. “I need to know if Havily Morgan is all right.”
    A pause followed as well as a sigh. “You know I’m not allowed to discuss warrior business. Even if my channels are secure, your phone isn’t.”
    “I’m not asking about the warriors. I just need to know if Havily was involved in any of the activities this evening?”
    “Yes.” But she volunteered no other information.
    Marcus put a hand to his chest. Shit, he was struggling to breathe. “Was she … injured?”
    “No, not at all. I can promise you that. She is perfectly well.” A pause, then more stridently, “But I really can’t say anything more.”
    “I understand.” He released a sigh. “Thank you, Jeannie. You’ve helped a lot.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “I’ll say good night.”
    “Marcus?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You were always my favorite.”
    “Back atcha.”
    “Coming back anytime soon?”
    In the dark and in the comfort of his bedroom on Bainbridge Island, he smiled. “Don’t think so.”
    “Too fucking bad, Warrior. Thorne’s calling. Gotta go.”
    He thumbed his iPhone and set it back on the table.
    Good. Havily was all right but Jeannie’s unspoken words indicated there had been some problem tonight in which Havily had been involved.
    He climbed back into bed, stretched out, then laced his hands behind his head. What was he supposed to do with the conundrum that had become Havily Morgan?
    Tonight? Nothing.
    Tomorrow he’d head back to his office building, the one he owned in downtown Seattle.