Blood Moons by Alianne Donnelly Page B
Authors: Alianne Donnelly
Tags: Science-Fiction, adventure, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Paranormal, Science Fiction & Fantasy
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Switch got the leftovers.
Apparently that was more than enough for him.
Tristan stayed firmly out of his mind, refusing to catch even a glimpse of his memories. "Sounds like you've had some experience in that area." Not missing a beat on the eye twitch the rodent had suddenly developed, he addressed Sinclair. "I'll tell you what," he said, disengaging himself from the sack of lard and his horny hamster. "When I get tired of her, I might give her the option of striking out on her own.
But you should know she's getting a little addicted to me."
Sinclair waved that away easily. "Not to worry; I have ways of curing those pesky little addictions to pleasure."
106
Blood Moons
by Alianne Donnelly
If Tristan had hackles, they'd be standing on end now.
"First come, first serve, Sinclair," he said, trying to rein in his temper. "She was given to me—to my cell . And nobody is touching her until I am through." Then he smiled, though it felt more predatory than pleasant. "We are all civilized human beings, after all, not wild animals." Not yet.
Sinclair nodded in complete agreement. "If we don't have class, we don't have anything."
Said the man who ate his victims alive, with expensive silverware.
"Gentlemen, always a pleasure. Enjoy your movie."
He took his time leaving, taking controlled breaths in hopes that it would keep him from changing outwardly.
Instead of calming him, the ritual merely served to expand his lungs until he thought his chest would burst. The sudden flood of oxygen made his nostrils flare and his eyesight sharpen even more. His jaw ached even though he wasn't clenching his teeth. A bad sign. It was, he found, a precursor to fangs.
Just a few more feet. Just a little longer.
He was almost at the elevator when his speedy escape was thwarted.
"Tristan?"
Great. What now? He didn't slow down. If he could just make it into the elevator, he'd be fine. But he had to get there first.
Amelia hurried to catch up with him. "Let's talk, shall we?"
"Not in the mood. Some other time."
"Now."
107
Blood Moons
by Alianne Donnelly
Surprised by the sudden assertion of authority, Tristan stopped in his tracks. What was this? A backbone? The cutting comment died before he could utter it. He glanced at the elevator in indecision but ultimately nodded, following her to one of the observation rooms. The experiments never ceased. Prisoners were under the microscope at all times, even if they weren't doing anything except watching TV.
"What's this about, Doc?"
She took off her glasses to polish the lenses, a sure sign she was upset. "Why don't you tell me?" she countered.
"Sensors in your cell sink recorded traces of blood two nights ago and there was no record in the database of a fight."
"I cut myself shaving."
The mechanism didn't work that way and they both knew it. No sharp blades of any kind were allowed anywhere near the prisoners. That meant no cuts.
Apparently Amelia decided to humor him. "Then why are you wearing at least three days' worth of beard now?"
He shrugged a shoulder carelessly.
"If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you."
Tristan didn't say anything.
Amelia took a breath, as if she was losing patience with him. "Let me put this another way. You can tell me voluntarily, or you can tell someone else under duress. But one way or another, they will find out. In your place, I'd at least try to minimize the cost."
"It was a paper cut," he said, impatient to get out of there.
He had Dara's scent in his nostrils as if he was hunting without having realized it. His muscles ached to move; ached 108
Blood Moons
by Alianne Donnelly
to run as fast as he could and feel the freedom of it. He needed that sense of abandon now if he hoped to get out of this situation without killing someone.
His conversation with Sinclair and the rodent refused to leave his mind as quickly as so many others before had. This one had hit far too close to a sensitive subject and for the first time he could
Apparently that was more than enough for him.
Tristan stayed firmly out of his mind, refusing to catch even a glimpse of his memories. "Sounds like you've had some experience in that area." Not missing a beat on the eye twitch the rodent had suddenly developed, he addressed Sinclair. "I'll tell you what," he said, disengaging himself from the sack of lard and his horny hamster. "When I get tired of her, I might give her the option of striking out on her own.
But you should know she's getting a little addicted to me."
Sinclair waved that away easily. "Not to worry; I have ways of curing those pesky little addictions to pleasure."
106
Blood Moons
by Alianne Donnelly
If Tristan had hackles, they'd be standing on end now.
"First come, first serve, Sinclair," he said, trying to rein in his temper. "She was given to me—to my cell . And nobody is touching her until I am through." Then he smiled, though it felt more predatory than pleasant. "We are all civilized human beings, after all, not wild animals." Not yet.
Sinclair nodded in complete agreement. "If we don't have class, we don't have anything."
Said the man who ate his victims alive, with expensive silverware.
"Gentlemen, always a pleasure. Enjoy your movie."
He took his time leaving, taking controlled breaths in hopes that it would keep him from changing outwardly.
Instead of calming him, the ritual merely served to expand his lungs until he thought his chest would burst. The sudden flood of oxygen made his nostrils flare and his eyesight sharpen even more. His jaw ached even though he wasn't clenching his teeth. A bad sign. It was, he found, a precursor to fangs.
Just a few more feet. Just a little longer.
He was almost at the elevator when his speedy escape was thwarted.
"Tristan?"
Great. What now? He didn't slow down. If he could just make it into the elevator, he'd be fine. But he had to get there first.
Amelia hurried to catch up with him. "Let's talk, shall we?"
"Not in the mood. Some other time."
"Now."
107
Blood Moons
by Alianne Donnelly
Surprised by the sudden assertion of authority, Tristan stopped in his tracks. What was this? A backbone? The cutting comment died before he could utter it. He glanced at the elevator in indecision but ultimately nodded, following her to one of the observation rooms. The experiments never ceased. Prisoners were under the microscope at all times, even if they weren't doing anything except watching TV.
"What's this about, Doc?"
She took off her glasses to polish the lenses, a sure sign she was upset. "Why don't you tell me?" she countered.
"Sensors in your cell sink recorded traces of blood two nights ago and there was no record in the database of a fight."
"I cut myself shaving."
The mechanism didn't work that way and they both knew it. No sharp blades of any kind were allowed anywhere near the prisoners. That meant no cuts.
Apparently Amelia decided to humor him. "Then why are you wearing at least three days' worth of beard now?"
He shrugged a shoulder carelessly.
"If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you."
Tristan didn't say anything.
Amelia took a breath, as if she was losing patience with him. "Let me put this another way. You can tell me voluntarily, or you can tell someone else under duress. But one way or another, they will find out. In your place, I'd at least try to minimize the cost."
"It was a paper cut," he said, impatient to get out of there.
He had Dara's scent in his nostrils as if he was hunting without having realized it. His muscles ached to move; ached 108
Blood Moons
by Alianne Donnelly
to run as fast as he could and feel the freedom of it. He needed that sense of abandon now if he hoped to get out of this situation without killing someone.
His conversation with Sinclair and the rodent refused to leave his mind as quickly as so many others before had. This one had hit far too close to a sensitive subject and for the first time he could
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