Final snippet for Nomad Avenged!
Nomad Avenged – Snippet 06
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 7
By Craig Martelle and Michael Anderle
Terry breathed slowly and rhythmically, feeling the strength returning to his body. He squinted and concentrated, finally able to make out the crack under the door where one or two lumens crept past. Despite his best efforts he could see nothing else in the room.
He kicked at the dead body, now shriveled to a mere husk of its former self. Terry kicked it away from him so he wouldn’t have to touch it.
In the silence, he heard footsteps, hard soles on a hard floor, clickety clack.
It wasn’t Kirkus unless he’d swapped his soft-sole slippers for cowboy boots.
The door was thrown open and the light turned on. Terry blinked and squinted against the brightness. Kirkus stood next to an incredibly beautiful Chinese woman, tall and shapely, skin like alabaster. Her over-sized almond-shaped eyes were dark as she visually explored the body of Terry Henry Walton.
“How nice of you to bring your pet kitty,” Terry said in a low voice, tensing with the expectation of what she was there to do.
Kirkus stepped aside without a word. The young-looking woman started to undress, slowly, seductively. A lesser man may have been lulled into enjoying the show, but with each article of clothing removed, she was one step closer to turning into a Weretiger.
TH couldn’t defend himself. He’d seen Aaron in Were form too many times to count and knew the damage that would be wrought by a Weretiger’s claws.
Kirkus chuckled softly to himself, but didn’t tell the woman to hurry. He was enjoying the anticipation of pain that filled Terry’s mind.
Once fully naked, she turned one way, then another to show her curves and her pride in her body. Terry only saw the muscles of a fighter. He closed his eyes for a moment trying to block her out while all the muscles in his body tensed.
When he felt hot breath on his face, he opened his eyes and found himself face-to-face with the orange furred Weretiger. He didn’t try to head butt her; she was just out of range. He remained still while she sniffed him.
He saw her eye twitch as a paw blurred in how quickly it raked its claws across his stomach. He didn’t feel it at first, then it was like fire burning through his skin and into his very soul.
The Weretiger stalked back and forth, sizing up her prey while TH worked through the pain. He chanced a look, saw the shredded skin and torn muscle beneath.
Terry consoled himself by believing that Kirkus needed him alive for some reason. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be playing games.
“Damn, kitten. Look what you did to my beach body?” Terry taunted, flexing himself in anticipation of another slash. She jumped up, and he flinched.
She landed with the pads of her paws on his shoulders. She was heavy and his shoulders screamed with the strain. The shackles dug deeply into his wrists.
The Weretiger leaned close. Her feline eyes studied him. She licked his face from chin to forehead with her wide and raspy tongue.
“Come on, kitten. You’ve been eating too much ass lately. Maybe try a breath mint every now and again,” Terry grumbled.
She sniffed and nuzzled his face, then nibbled his ear. He froze. She clamped down, driving a fang through the cartilage.
Find Craig Martelle at http://www.craigmartelle.com
