So I made it through the character battle.
Wanna help me try to to make it to the next level? Round 2!
Here’s a Damon…um, out-take maybe? It’s not a scene that was in a book, but it happened shortly after Kit was grabbed in Night Blade.
My body ached. I wish I could blame the workout. I’d been going at it for close two hours now and wasn’t even close to done. Oughta give Chang a call. He was the only one I could think who could maybe give me the beating I probably needed.
Why the fuck had I done?
The look on her face. Something was wrong. I knew there was. Magic…under that cloying, awful scent of another man on her, there had been the scent of magic. It had been there for a few days. Kit usually smelled of magic—there were charms all over her office, but after she was gone a few hours, it started to fade. But it wasn’t like this.
The door opened. “Get out.”
Another snarl answered me.
I bit back a roar. Doyle.
Another person in my life who’d been acting like his tail had been stepped on. I was tempted to get up and kick his ass, but not in the mood I was in.
He wouldn’t back down and I didn’t want to hurt him.
A flash of orange and black appeared in the corner of my eye. He was back in his tiger form. Doyle often shifted to cat when he was edgy.
As much as I didn’t want to worry about anybody else, it was my responsibility now, one I couldn’t put off just because I didn’t want to mess with it.
How long had he been like that? I didn’t know. Son of a bitch. Lowering the heavy bar, I sat up. Sweat stung my eyes as I stared at him. I didn’t want to worry about Doyle. Problems in the clan.
Following me. My hands closed into fists while I stared at the floor. She’d been following me.
I can’t talk about it. Let me work it… I’ll explain. I’d thought this through a thousand times, it seemed over the past few days, but this time, those words seemed to hit different. Can’t talk. Can’t.
Can’t talk…not won’t. Can’t.
That stink of magic that clung to her.
“Son of a bitch!” I stood up and spun around. Fury blinded me and I grabbed the bottom of the weight bench, upending it as the realization blasted me.
Had to get dressed. Had to—
A fist pounded on the door.
The door opened. I spun around, rage burning in me, tightening my muscles in warning. “I said—”
Tyson, one of the new cats I’d accepted into the clan, stood there, his head bowed. “Alpha, forgive me. But I think you need to speak with this wolf.”
The huge man who shouldered past him had to duck his head to come into my rooms. He wasn’t a stranger. I hadn’t ever met him until Kit had introduced us, though. I’d thought I knew most of the wolves in the area—at least those who’d present a threat.
Goliath was a hell of a mother-fucking threat.
Right now, the look on his ugly mug was one that promised a bloody, painful death.
His eyes were pale and blue as they caught mine. “You seen Kit?” he demanded.
I stilled. My heart slammed hard against my ribs and the cat inside me went still. “A few days ago.”
For a second, the word didn’t connect.
Then, as the strength drained out of me, I stumbled, fell back against the wall, staring at the floor. She ran…she just ran.
“You going to stand there looking some lost little kitten?”
Jerking my head, I watched as Goliath prowled closer, the floor vibrating under each heavy step. His eyes narrowed in on my face and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
“Justin and Colleen been throwing spells. There’s been a witch at her place…and not a good one. Coll felt a lot of fear, panic.” He leaned down, his nose just an inch away. Slowly, the strength came back as what he was saying made sense. Strength, and fury. Somebody was going to die. Slowly. I’d rip them limb from limb. “Her trail just disappeared. Now if that brain of yours is working, cat, you already know what that means. Somebody grabbed her.”
I shoved him back as Doyle’s roar echoed through the room.
It’s over…Good-bye, Kit.
Those were the last words I’d said to her.