Betrayals (Strange Angels #2)

And death doesn't wait for you when your rested and ready. It sneaks up on you when your exhausted and hungry and cold and so scared you can't even see straight

And ordering me around is exactly the wrong way to make me do what you want.

Another big ripping sound. Jesus. Had they brought supernatural dynamite in to tear the whole place apart?

Are you listening, little bird?

Boys. Jeez.

Christophe, with the careful tone of an adult telling a kid not to pet the nice foaming-rabid pooch.

Come on. Say something, Dru. Don't just sit there and look like I've stabbed you. Christ.

First you find out what you have , Dad would say. Then you figure out how to make it work for what you need, 'cause you don't get what you want. You get just what you have and no more.

Gee, thanks." I couldn't sound more sarcastic, but I was willing to give it a try. My breathing evened out. "What are you here for, then? Tea and cookies?" My mouth wanted to water. He smelled like cookies. Cinnamon ones, with dabs of apple-pie filling.

He smelled like smoke too, and under it was the edge of apple pies-spice and goodness. Jesus. Even after all that he smelled like a bakery.

He was so close it was hard to breathe. It was exactly like being next to an oven baking a really spicy apple pie.

I crossed my arms over my chest. Jeez, it was cold in here all of a sudden. And had he always smelled this good? Was it a cologne? Eau de Christmas Pie?

I'd kind of expected that kids who knew about the Real World wouldn't act like jock dipwads. Guess I was wrong.

I don't know who I am anymore." I expected the world to crack open and the sky to fall once I said it. Nothing happened.

Goddammit, Bobby, break the speed limit!

I'm going to draw whoever it is off so you can go back to the dorms and fuck yourselves.

It is our honor," Amelia said, and it was the weirdest thing-it sounded like she really meant it. People don't often say exactly what they really mean.

Jeez. Just over a week was all it took for my life to implode. It was some kind of record.

Less speed, less strength, less stamina since I hadn't "bloomed". But I'd bet I was outweighing everyone around me in the brain category.

My legs were on fire. All of me was burning and my back was a solid bar of pain. But it didn't matter.
What mattered was Graved next to me, also rubbing my back and laughing like he'd just found Christmas in his pants.

My voice wouldn't work right. I made a tiny nod instead, because - how's this for weird? - I didn't want him to let go of me. He'd pulled back a little, with just his lower half, and I was afraid the scorch in my cheeks would set fire to the rest of me, because I had an idea why.
Wow. Oh, wow.

Nice, huh? I was just special all over the place.

Now," Graves finally said, "anyone else want to piss me off? Anyone else think this is a goddamn democracy?

Oh, the testosterone. You could have cut it with a cafeteria spoon.

So you're a dom, huh? Nice." I stabbed my pancakes again. "Kinky."

"You're the one who ties people up, babe.

So you're a dom, huh? Nice." I stabbed my pancakes again. "Kinky."
"You're the one who ties people up, babe.

The rest of it spilled out in an incoherent jumble, but he nodded every once in a while. I liked that about him. He was so smart you didn't have to hold his hand and walk him through everything. He could fill in the blanks on his own.

Yeah. Calm down. Two of the most useless words in the English language.

Yeah, well things change. Now I want to be here." Another long, seconds-ticking pause. Dust danced in one fading gleam of gold coming through a low window, following long lazy swirls down to the ground. "With you.

You've got a better chance with me, Dru. Don't do something stupid again. If something happens, it's you and me against the world. Got it?