Few Are Angels Book # 3 (Prequel)
Expected Publication Date- September 30th, 2013
Genre-New Adult/Mature YA-*Contains sexual content*
More than a century after the tragedy of Hélène's death and before Ella found Kale bruised and broken on her doorstep, Kale moved through the world in a haze of personal punishment allowing it to consume him. Until his friend, Detective Deacon, a newly infected Chorý calls on him for a favor.
In this prequel to the Few Are Angels series, Kale is thrown into a world of human blood trafficking and is introduced to a Chorý that offers him a chance at happiness— in blood.
Quicker than Kale thought possible, Sola got Giovanni inside his home and limped back down the driveway. Gingerly pulling herself into the passenger seat, she sighed and leaned her head back into the headrest. Kale started the car, and he and Sola drove in silence, other than her quiet directions back to her apartment.
“You’re hurt,” Kale stated as they pulled up in front of her apartment building.She opened her palm and looked at the dried blood. “It’s not that bad.”“Not there.” He leaned over and gently placed a hand on Sola’s hip. She flinched. He tilted his head up to capture her gaze. “You’re hurt there, and it’s probably going to bruise.”
Kale leaned in closer and grabbed the hem of her shirt, lightly pulling it up to reveal a small strip of smooth brown skin. He froze, staring at it. Her scent was amazing, and her heart sped up. He had never been so entranced by the smell of vanilla in his life; but tonight, with her, it smelled stronger, more potent, and Kale wondered why his hormones wanted to start acting up now, of all times.
“Wait.” Sola grabbed his arm.
Kale realized he’d gone too far. He’d just wanted to see how bad the bruise was, but he was crossing the line by touching her. “Shit,” he said softly, pulling away from her. “Sorry, I just wanted to see—”
Sola pulled up her shirt and lowered her waist of her jeans a little, moving her body forward for him to see.
“Is it bad?” she asked, referring to the bruise that was probably now in full view, but Kale couldn’t take his eyes off of hers. Sola raised a brow and smirked.
Kale cleared his throat and looked down at the purple and black bruise. He assumed that the frown on his face must have scared her because she pulled her shirt up further.
“How can you see anything in here? It’s too freaking dark! Turn on the overhead light so I can see!” Sola twisted and turned her head, trying to see her injury in the dark.
Kale reached above them and clicked on the light. He leaned near her again to inspect her side. When he lifted his face, he was nose-to-nose with her. Her eyes widened, her warm breath caressed his cheeks, and the heat from her skin singed his face.
He pulled back immediately and swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “Pull your shirt down,” he demanded, instantly regretting the harshness in his tone. He turned to Sola and smiled. Relieved that her shirt was down and her eyes no longer on him, he finally answered her question. “It’s not too bad, but you should put some ice on it. Do you feel like you pulled anything?”
Sola faced him. Kale hadn’t meant to confuse her, but the frown on her face told him that he’d done that and more. One second, he had his hands on her as if he was attracted to her; and the next, he was giving her the cold shoulder. Kale had dealt with plenty of females who acted so fickle, but he was proving that men could be the same way.
“Sola, it’s late and—”
“Yeah, I know it’s late, and you’re ready to go,” Sola reached for the handle of the door and started to open it. “Sorry for all of the drama tonight.”
Kale grabbed Sola’s arm before she had a chance to get out. “No.” He waited for her to look at him before he spoke again. “I was saying that I’m tired, so please forgive my grumpiness.”
He smiled, hoping that he’d convinced her that she’d done nothing wrong. As fed up as he was with Gio, he still enjoyed the time me and Sola had spent together before the drama started.
“Okay, and no, I don’t think I pulled anything. It is sore, though.”
Sola gently pulled away. He let go of her arm, and she rubbed her bruised side.“Do you need help getting upstairs to your place?” The moment the words came out of his mouth, Kale heard Sola take a shuddering breath, and her heart sped up at his innocent request.
“Um.” That time it was Sola who cleared her throat and swallowed the lump that had settled there. “I think I can manage. Thanks.”
Sola ducked out of the vehicle and shut the door before Kale had a chance to respond, leaving him sitting there.
Inger Iversen lives in Virginia Beach with her tree-hugging boyfriend Joshua and her overweight lap cat Max. When not reading or writing she spends her time watching reruns of True Blood or killing zombies in Call Of Duty.