Moon Tortured (Sky Brooks Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

seen, Sebastian is a fair and reasonable leader, and I am sure he will allow you to speak to our contact when he arrives. Okay?”
    “Who is your contact?” I needed more information. They had to at least tell me who was so diligent about protecting me.
    After a furtive glance at the door, she spoke, but it was barely audible: “Josh.”
    I had a name but I had no idea who it was. Josh? Who was he and why did he want me alive? Most importantly, how did he know I was in danger?
    Joan was still waiting for an answer. “Who is Josh and why does he care whether I live or die?” I asked.
    The pleasant smile returned and I knew she wasn’t going to give me any more answers. “That is all the information I can give you,” she said. “Will you at least stay with us the five days,” she requested.
    Why was she asking me? Did I really have a choice in this matter? Sebastian made it clear: guest or prisoner, I was staying. Joan waited for a response that I was unable to give. She gave me another congenial look before she left.

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 2
     
     
    Placing the messenger bag stuffed with clothes, wallet, and a few toiletries across my chest, I opened the window. I wanted to trust these people, but I couldn’t. The idea that Sebastian and Ethan wanted to keep me safe was hard to believe when everything about them seemed primal, vicious and lethal. And I couldn’t get the disdainful way Ethan glowered at me. It held nothing but malicious intent. And Winter? What was it about her that warranted trust? Was it the way she glided through house unheard and barely noticed? Or the mesmeric way she held my gaze leaving me paralyzed. You don’t trust people like this. You get a good look and make sure you can identify them out of a police lineup.
    I couldn’t place the responsibility of my safety and life in the hands of strangers I didn’t trust. I was good at living under the radar, becoming invisible in a sea of faces. It was something I practiced all my life—never standing out, always unnoticed. Obscure to the point where I was anonymous. I could hide and never be found.
    We had a home in Canada that we inherited from my grandparents. I considered going there; but if the vampires were as good as the were-animals led me to believe, undoubtedly they would look there. Nevertheless, Canada was an excellent place to hide. My mother and I visited Nova Scotia a couple of years ago and I fell in love with the quaint province. It was a charming place but too small to offer the anonymity I needed. The best way to hide was in a well-populated area like Toronto or Montreal, cities so heavily occupied you could hide in plain sight, virtually lost in a sea of faces. You become just one out of millions, not thousands.
    I hated large cities; that’s why I adored our suburban home. Just thirty miles outside of Chicago, it was close enough so that when you felt the urge, you could easily take part in the unique culture, arts, exceptional restaurants and nightlife. Yet you were far enough that you could still enjoy the subtle allures of the Midwest.
    As I sorted out my plans, a sudden wash of sorrow engulfed me because it was then I realized how utterly alone I was. My mother was an only child; I didn’t have any aunts, uncles or cousins who I could contact for assistance. My grandmother died when my mother was a child and my grandfather died a couple of years ago. When my grandfather died, my step-grandmother made it very clear that she was a step, and all ties were severed when he died.
    Pushing the sudden feeling of despair deep down, I focused on the task at hand. There wasn’t time to wallow in sorrow or deal with the burning feeling in my chest as my heart mourned for her. But my body had its own ideas as my vision blurred from the tears that began to form. I screwed my eyes shut, forcing them back.
    I leapt out of the window and landed squarely on my feet. It was something I’d done so many times that it was second nature.