Page 1 of Death Bringer
PROLOGUE
San Francisco
Brad Dailey woke to sunlight streaming through open blinds and wondered where the hell he was. The last thing he remembered was a bar in the city, being dumped by his chick and ending up talking to the bartender and the only other guy left in the place. Nice guys who’d drunk with him until he couldn’t remember the girl’s name, let alone why he’d liked her in the first place.
Her loss.
He swallowed, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like spit to an envelope. What the fuck had he ended up drinking? He was going to have the hangover from hell, and he was due in class at ten. He grabbed his cell phone and squinted at the numbers. It was already nine thirty. Even if he busted a gut, he’d never get there in time.
But he had to go. Dr. Blinz was a bastard. He’d be chucked out of the class if he didn’t show up again, and his parents would kill him. With superhuman effort, he rolled out of bed and staggered toward the bathroom. First, he needed to pee real bad. That accomplished, he turned on the faucets and faced his reflection in the mirror.
And screamed.
1
“What do you mean,I can’t spend the night?”
Ignoring the interested glances of the other passengers on the packed Blue & Gold ferry to Tiburon, Ella glared right back at Vadim.
“You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you haven’t asked nicely, and I don’t like being taken for granted. We might be stuck together for life, but it doesn’t mean you own me or anything.” She walked away from him and looked back at the city. The incoming fog crawling in under the Golden Gate Bridge was slowly swallowing up the gray, square lines and glinting glass buildings.
“Then why didn’t you say something when I got on this damn boat with you?”
He was right behind her again. His voice was quiet, but fury emanated from every pore. He wore a long dark coat and blue cashmere scarf that screamed Italian designer. Tendrils of his black hair danced coyly in the breeze, caressing his awesome cheekbones. He might look like a model in the middle of a photo shoot, but he was much more than a pretty face.
She shrugged. “I don’t know where you’re living. I assumed you must have moved over here.”
“I haven’t moved anywhere. When the hell did I have time to do that? Alexei left for Russia this evening. I paid off his extortionate bill, but kept my room on.”
“Well, that’s lucky. You can stay on the ferry and go right back again.”
“You know damn well that this is the last one tonight.”
She swiveled to face him, her arms crossed over her chest. “Then you know what you can do, don’t you?”
“What’s that, Ms. Walsh?” He moved so close that she could see into his dark blue eyes. So much bluer than the murky waters of the bay, and so much more dangerous too… His gaze flashed black, and her pulse jumped in her throat.
“You can use magic, Morosov, and fly away home.”
“Yes, I can.” He slowly let out his breath. “What I don’t understand is what the hell is wrong with you. You’ve been treating me like dirt all day.”
“What’s new?” He didn’t lighten up, and she looked away from his intense gaze. “I just need an evening to myself, that’s all.”
Silence greeted her remark. She concentrated on maintaining her mental shields, even though if he really wanted to get through them, he could do it with ease.
“You nearly died yesterday.”
“So?”
“We’ve spent the last twenty-four hours being debriefed by the SBLE authorities, and now I want to sleep for a hundred years. With you.”
“It’s not just your decision, is it?” She hunched a shoulder at him. “Oh, for God’s sake, Morosov, don’t get all primitive and possessive. I really can’t handle it at the moment.”
“You can’t handle it, period. That’s why you don’t want me here. You’re scared.”
