Icarus; The Kindred (A Paranormal Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

whatever inconceivable reason, I've changed my mind about escaping. Then, the reality of what's going on sinks in and my survival instincts kick into overdrive.
    I lean over and though part of me wants to fight the urge, I tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss his cheek. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

    As I open the door to the hall I laugh to myself—not "ha ha" funny, but "oh shit, I really didn't think this through." Every window in what I assume is a house has been covered in darkening film. This is a good thing in some respects, but simply awful for figuring out which side of the house I'm on and what time of day it is. All I can do is follow the walls and pray this isn't one of those high-security places where a Dungeons and Dragons nerd is in the closet watching monitors as he collects mage cards.
    I hear voices ahead of me and briefly consider turning to go the other way, but being the glutton for punishment that I am, I walk a few more steps.
    "Give her time. We don't know what she's been through," Olivia pleads.
    Stranger still, I lean around the corner and see a balcony railing.
    I'm upstairs?
    They sit in an open room filled with glass windows, the moon high above the ocean in the distance. It surprises me a little to see that the largest windows of the house are uncovered.
    "Come on, Liv, get real. Jessica left on purpose. Iris could be dead for all we know," Damian growls.
    I am starting to get the feeling that this guy hates me. This reminds me that I failed to ask Jacelynd who Iris was. Wish I'd thought of that before I cold-cocked him.
    "That was ruled out ten years ago when he heard her for the last time. She didn't immediately lose consciousness, remember? They tried to get information from her first—we've had this discussion." Quinn doesn't seem terribly thrilled at the prospect of having it again. And which "he" are they referring to this time?
    "She will turn on us. Death—you can mark my words on this—by High Coven or the Seer Cleric or both." Damian stands as he says this and turns his back on Quinn.
    High Coven, by the way, could be considered the vampiric White House. I've never been one for politics, so I prefer to think of it as "that place I'd have my eyes poked out before visiting." See, much more pleasant. Why would they think after ripping the dosing sphere out of my arm that I would go anywhere near High Coven? Interesting.
    I see Damian start in the opposite direction, where I assume a staircase is, and decide that my curiosity might actually get me in trouble this time if I hang around to hear more. It doesn't take me long to find a window that doesn't stick shut and make my way outside.
    For the nine thousandth time, I wish that all those urban fantasies I've read were real and I could perform acts of physical impossibility. It would be so convenient if I could just jump from here. Alas, shimmying down the pipe it is.
    My feet hit the ground and I run from there. It doesn't dawn on me that stealing keys to a car would have been a better idea until I realize how far out in BFE I am. A handful of beach houses, mostly abandoned from storms past and in desperate need of demolition, are all I can see for miles. This is not good. This is not good because those houses won't provide any kind of protection once the sun rises. Hurricanes tend to knock holes in things. Like walls, for example. I wonder if Jacelynd has woken up yet? I laugh again because my logic failed to remind me that not only am I slow on foot, I am slower than they will be by vehicle once they realize I'm gone. If they come looking, that is. Damian ought to feel a little justified. See, there's always a silver lining.
    Three hours, five million sand dunes and seven grass snakes later, my feet are killing me. This, this is why man invented modern transportation. And what I am going to do about the whole missing disc thing? Is it even possible to go back to my old life? Would anyone believe me or am I not exaggerating the treason