Mists of Velvet Read Online Free PDF Page A

fate—a series of kinky chicks who liked getting it on with two guys; a life of one-night stands and no-strings-attached sex.
    He’d long given up the hope that maybe he could live like a normal man with marriage, kids, pot roast on Sundays. He had only to look at his own parents to know the unlikelihood of happily ever after. His mother couldn’t hack it—the secrets, the feeling that his father was cheating on her with his “best friend,” his Shadow Wraith. Maybe if his dad had come clean, she could have stuck it out, but coming clean about Annwyn and a centuries-old curse didn’t come easily, or believably. Finally, his mother had bailed on him and his dad. Rhys didn’t know her—couldn’t even remember her. But more disturbing? He didn’t feel the loss of her.
    His father had suffered, though. Regretted not telling Rhys’ mother the truth. Which only cemented the thought that Rhys would never live a normal life. He was sure no woman would believe the fantastical story, or trust him and accept him as he was.
    Yeah. It sucked. But this was his life, and he couldn’t deny that he appreciated what Keir did for him. Hell, he wouldn’t be alive without him, but he did regret that his life could never be normal. And he felt bad that Keir had also been denied a life. As Rhys’ eternal shadow, Keir was chained to him until Rhys drew his last breath. After that, he had no idea what Keir’s life would entail. Maybe he would be cast back to the Wastelands where others of his kind lived. Maybe he would cease to exist like Rhys. In any event, Keir had no life of his own, because he’d been sentenced to babysitting duty.
    Both of them were fucked. Even if Rhys wished to get rid of the wraith, he couldn’t. Keir was his. A wraith only ever belonged to one person. And Rhys himself? He wanted to mean something to someone—someone who needed him; someone he could protect, and make love to. Not just screw, but make love to. That sappy, bone-melting passion they showed in the movies—that’s what he wanted.
    But women were constantly out of his reach—well, the kind of woman he wanted. The easy kind—he always had those. They were fine for a night, but long term? No, he didn’t want the type of woman he screwed in the back of Velvet Haven. He wanted wholesome. Lovable. Sexy—and a good cook. Hell, he was mortal. He liked to eat.
    A cursed mortal, he reminded himself, which of course made him question for the millionth time that day where the hell Keir was. He hadn’t seen him since daybreak, when he opened his eyes to find Keir slinking out of bed and out the door.
    Just what the hell was going on in Annwyn, and why the fuck was he being kept in the dark? Sure, he was mortal and would die. But he wasn’t a pansy ass. He could hold his own.
    Rhys’ teeth ground together, making his head pulse harder. Reaching into his desk drawer, he popped open a bottle of Tylenol and took two tablets, along with a swig of cold coffee. Propping his Doc Martens on his desk, he leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. Focusing on the copper tin ceiling above, Rhys allowed his mind to go blank.
    It was time to locate the wraith.
    Closing his eyes, he stilled his breathing, trying to sift through his anger and frustration to locate Keir’s thoughts. Their bond was strong, stronger even than his father’s bond with his wraith, who just happened to be Keir’s mother.
    Immediately Rhys felt Keir, but he couldn’t hear him or see him in his mind. Was it possible he had cloaked his thoughts? Wraiths had the power to do that, but Keir had never done so with Rhys. Their thoughts and emotions were an open book. It was what made their bond so strong.
    Rhys lingered in Keir’s mind, nudging a bit harder while he waited patiently for the wraith to talk. But Keir’s voice never came, and a black curtain suddenly drew down over Rhys. He’d never seen such a thing before. He had no idea what was happening—why he couldn’t