Martinis with the Devil, Part Two Page 14
Eli’s comm device rang, the one that only HR headquarters used. Reality slammed into me. I spun and stalked off, seeing a flash of Eli’s confused face as he answered.
“Eli Whitesong.” A pause. “Yes. Okay. We’ll be right there.”
I heard him disconnect the call and take two steps in my direction. Well, not so much heard it as felt it. Like a line of energy connected us.
This was royally fucked.
About the Author
Alexia Chamberlynn lives in Florida. When she's not writing or reading, she can be found playing with horses, eating chocolate and other delicious things, drinking wine, traveling to the next place on her global wish list, or maybe doing yoga. Connect with her at www.alexiachamberlynn.com.
