Storm Warrior (The Grim Series) Read Online Free PDF

feared him.
    Not Morgan Edwards. She didn’t seem to be aware of the significance of his presence or perhaps didn’t care. Instead, she had noticed him, watched him, even worried about him. She’d ventured out in a storm to make sure he was all right, not knowing he was unaffected by the rain. Offered him food, not knowing he didn’t eat. And finally, she had invited him inside.
    Inside.
He’d long forgotten what that was like. To be warm and comfortable, if he was able to feel such things, but also to be welcome. Wanted. Curiosity, in itself a novelty, compelled him to accept the woman’s invitation, if only for a moment. He’d watched her with interest, admired the fearless efficiency in the way she moved. She’d been startled when she came face-to-face with him—but she hadn’t screamed. He’d been startled too. Morgan Edwards was pretty by human standards and almost as finely featured as the fae themselves. Yet, while their hair was fine and icy white, hers was thick and glossy, its waves the color of a newly hulled chestnut. He didn’t breathe, yet her scent had filled his nostrils, crept into his lungs to nestle by his unbeating heart and warm it. It shouldn’t be possible.
    He’d vanished then, returned to the elements outside, to the cold and familiar darkness. Yet a faint spark had been fanned to life inside him, some emotion he could not name. Emotion was a stranger, must be a stranger, and yet he felt something. Because of Morgan Edwards.
    But the woman was marked, and he must not interfere. He was forbidden to interfere.
Destiny ruled over life and death
, the Tylwyth Teg had said, before charging him with his terrible task.
What destiny has decreed, you will herald. It cannot be altered or defied.
Yet, for the first time in centuries, he considered that perhaps the Fair Ones were wrong.

THREE

    Spokane Valley, Washington, USA
    B arely home a week, Morgan found herself on the run from morning to night, and this day was no exception. She’d had four surgeries that morning and several appointments and walk-ins in the afternoon. Most were for dogs and cats, but a snake, a chinchilla, and a tree frog came through the door as well. She’d spent an hour after the clinic closed poring through books and searching the Internet for the nutritional needs of pink-toed tarantulas, thanks to a frantic phone call from twelve-year-old Ryan White about his beloved Ozzie. The pictures creeped her out, but in the end Morgan was able to call Ryan back with some suggestions for Ozzie’s diet.
    Exhaustion dragged at her as she switched off the lights. The three animal health techs—Cindy, Melinda, and Russell—were working out wonderfully. As assistants, they had made a huge difference in the last few months, but the clinic was busier than ever. Maybe it was time to bring on a fourth vet. Jay was on call tonight, and Grady was already heading out to a local riding stable for a foaling. Morgan was just grateful it wasn’t her turn as she locked the doors behind her. The clinic was located in an industrial park on the edge of town, and most people had gone home by now. It was blissfully quiet. She paused outside her cardoor to breathe in the cooling air, rich with the scents of late summer fields—
    The attack came out of nowhere. She was grabbed by the shirtfront and pushed backward over the hood of her car. Morgan found herself face-to-face with a rough-looking man with a scraggly goatee. His bloodshot blue eyes were set in a pallid face marked with open sores, and he was holding a knife to her throat.
    “I’ll cut you, bitch. Understand? Where’s your fuckin’ purse?”
    “In the car. It’s in the car—in the trunk,” she breathed, afraid to move.
    “Why the hell’s it in there? You lyin’ to me?”
    She held her hands up. “No. No. I don’t need it in the clinic; it’s in the way there. I lock it in the trunk where it’s safe.”
    He snorted at that. Still holding the front of her shirt, he yanked