Hatshepsut's Collar (The Artifact Hunters #2)
Page 30
“Styx told her you sent him, to look out for her.”
Her gaze flicked from the diminutive woman to the rock face in front of her. “She needs protecting from Matthews.”
Slate eyes met hers. “You both do. Mandy we’ll take out of the city. I suspect you’ll be a trickier proposition.”
“I can handle Matthews.” Her teeth worried at her bottom lip.
“Not alone you’re not. We can help you take him down.”
Set free of the constant pain, her brain refused to shut up and rattled an endless list of questions. “What are you? Mob?”
“Clan.”
Which means old-fashioned mob. Her gut was right, again. She needed time to think and plan. But if he knew Matthews was dirty, what did that make him? What had she stumbled into the middle of? Some sort of turf war?
She peered into his amused eyes. “Who are you?”
“Jacob Deacon. Your new best friend. Noticed anything yet?” The grin turned mischievous.
JJ amassed problems all on her own; she didn’t need Jacob Deacon and his brand of rough trouble. She narrowed her eyes, looking at him again. Most days were like watching a 3D movie without the glasses. People were smeared across her vision with an array of colors that dribbled after them, trying to catch up. Everybody had a blurred edge, the difference mere degrees. Some were only slightly off, others trailed oil slicks behind that polluted everybody they passed, like Matthews.
Jacob stood in full on, eye popping, crystal clear 3D.
The smile dominated his rugged face.
He knows.
Oh shit, he knows!
“Guess you were too distracted Friday night to notice.”
Her mind whirred with the implications. Friday, finding Ariel took precedent in her preoccupied brain. When Jacob pressed against her, he was so close, and so mind shatteringly good, she only saw stars exploding in her head.
Alarm bells went nuts in her head. He oozed trouble, from the biker looking rock hard body she wanted to use as a chew toy, to the club she suspected of illicit dealings. Even more dangerous, he knew about her. She needed space to process everything.
“I don’t know what you are, but stay away from me.”
He leaned in close, drawing her scent into his body, since he couldn’t touch her without running the risk of pinning her to the wall again. Jasmine on wild nights and cool rain on hot tarmac hit his senses and sent a bolt straight through his gut.
“Not gonna happen, baby. You’re struggling to tread water with Matthews, and I’m your lifeline,” he whispered in her ear. “Also, I’m the itch you’ll be wanting to scratch. Repeatedly.” He growled and saw the shiver run down her spine. “You know where to find me, when you’re ready to talk.”
She narrowed those piercing blue eyes, questions shooting so hard in her brain, he could see the smoke coming out her ears. Her lush lips parted, but no sound came out. Changing her mind, she turned and walked away. Her briefcase swung from one hand, the other touched the base of her spine.
Jacob watched the seductive sway of her hips and the brief hand swipe. He chuckled. So, the Cosaint already bruised her skin, waiting below the surface. The more contact between them, the more distinct the mark would appear.
She could walk away, but his Natural wouldn’t escape.
Instinct told him Jema Johnson would give him a wild ride, worth a thousand years of waiting. He would show her, how together, they would deal with Matthews and his poison killing their city.
An ancient war had decimated their numbers, but the time had come for the gargoyles to take out the trash.
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Books and writing have always been an enormous part of Anita’s life.
She survived school by hiding out in the library, with several thousand fictional characters for company. At university, she overcame the boredom of studying accountancy by squeezing in Egyptology papers and learning to read hieroglyphics.
Today, Anita writes steampunk novels with a sexy edge and an Egyptian twist. She lives in rural New Zealand surrounded by an assortment of weird and wonderful equines, felines, canines and homicidal chickens.
You can find Anita on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AWExley
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ISBN: 978-1-62007-398-8 (ebook)
ISBN: 978-1-62007-399-5 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-62007-400-8 (hardcover)
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Appetizer:
Book Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Main Course:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
&n
bsp; Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Dessert:
The Quarry, by A.W. Exley
Acknowledgements
Closing
About the Author
Copyright & Publisher
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