Download The Rising (Darkness Rising, #3) by Kelley Armstrong free eBook pdf mobi epub mp3 fb2 CD txt doc kindle Ibook iOS: #3). bitten. Bitten [electronic resource (EPUB eBook)] / Kelley Armstrong. Digital Editions reader (go to the download page for this title to download the free software). Bitten By Kelley Armstrong - Free download as PDF File .pdf) or read online for free. Adopted by the Pack when bitten, Elena had spent years struggling with her resentment at having her life stolen away. tetraedge.info
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Bitten. Women of the Otherworld (Series). Book 1. Kelley Armstrong Author ( ). cover image of Bitten. Bitten. Women of the Otherworld (Series). Book 1. When Demons Walk - Patricia tetraedge.info KB. 3. Steal the Dragon .. The Bitten - L.A. tetraedge.info KB . by: KELLEY ARMSTRONG. 1. tetraedge.info THE BOOK THE TV SERIES BITTEN BASED ON It was in Bitten, Kelley Armstrong's debut novel, that year-old Elena Michaels came to.
All rights reserved. Kelley Armstrong eBooks. This Fallen Prey: A Rockton Novel Kelley Armstrong. Minotaur Books, February
Hes farther down the street. I abandon the restaurant and go to him. We are curious by nature. Hes standing in a three-car parking lot wedged at the end of a narrow passage between buildings. He holds a walkie-talkie to his ear and leans one elbow against a brick wall, casual but not resting. His shoulders are relaxed.
His gaze goes nowhere. He is confident in his place, that he has a right to be here and little to fear from the night. The gun. He stops talking, jabs a button, and slams the walkie-talkie into its holster.
His eyes scan the parking lot once, taking inventory and seeing nothing requiring his attention. Then he heads deeper into the alley maze. This could be amusing.
I follow. My nails click against the pavement. He doesnt notice. I pick up speed, darting around trash bags and empty boxes.
Finally, Im close enough. He hears the steady clicking behind him and stops.
I duck behind a Dumpster, peer around the corner. He turns and squints into the darkness. After a second he starts forward. I let him get a few steps away, then resume the pursuit. This time when he stops, I wait one extra second before diving for cover. He lets out a muffled oath. Hes seen somethinga flash of motion, a shadow flickering, something. His right hand slips to his gun, caressing the metal, then pulling back, as if the reassurance is enough.
He hesitates, then looks up and down the alley, realizing he is alone and uncertain what to do about it. He mutters something, then continues walking, quicker this time. As he walks, his eyes flick from side to side, wariness treading the border of alarm. I inhale deeply, picking up only wisps of fear, enough to make my heart pound, but not enough to send my brain spinning out of control. Hes safe quarry for a stalking game. He wont run. I can suppress most of my instincts.
I can stalk him without killing him. I can suffer the first pangs of hunger without killing him. I can watch him pull his gun without killing him.
Yet if he runs, I wont be able to stop myself. Thats a temptation I cant fight. If he runs, I will chase. If I chase, either hell kill me or Ill kill him. As he turns the corner down a connecting alley, he relaxes. All has been silent behind him. I creep from my hiding place, shifting my weight to the back of my foot pads to muffle the sound of my nails. Soon I am only a few feet.
I can smell his aftershave, almost masking the natural scent of a long days work. I can see his white socks appearing and disappearing between his shoes and pant legs. I can hear his breathing, the slight elevation in tempo betraying the fact that hes walking faster than usual. I ease forward, coming close enough that I could lunge if I want to and knock him to the ground before he even thought to reach for his gun.
His head jerks up. He knows Im there. He knows something is there. I wonder if he will turn. Does he dare to look, to face something he cant see or hear, but can only sense? His hand slides to his gun, but he doesnt turn.
He walks faster. Then he swings back to the safety of the street. I follow him to the end and observe from the darkness.
He strides forward, keys in hand, to a parked cruiser, unlocks it, and hops inside. The car roars and squeals from the curb. I watch the receding taillights and sigh. Game over. I won. That was nice but it wasnt nearly enough to satisfy me.
These city backstreets are too confining. My heart is thudding with unspent excitement. My legs are aching with built-up energy. I must run. A wind gusts from the south, bringing the sharp tang of Lake Ontario with it. I think of heading to the beach, imagine running along the stretch of sand, feeling the icy water slapping against my paws, but its not safe. If I want to run, I must go to the ravine.
Its a long way, but I have little choice unless I plan to skulk around human-smelling alleyways for the rest of the night. I swing to the northwest and begin the journey. Nearly a half hour later, Im standing at the crest of a hill. My nose twitches, picking up the vestiges of an illegal leaf fire smoldering in a nearby yard. The wind bristles through my fur, chill, nearly cold, invigorating.
Above me, traffic thunders across the overpass.
Below is sanctuary, a perfect. I leap forward, throwing myself off. At last Im running. My legs pick up the rhythm before Im halfway down the ravine. I close my eyes for a second and feel the wind slice across my muzzle.
As my paws thump against the hard earth, tiny darts of pain shoot up my legs, but they make me feel alive, like jolting awake after an overlong sleep.
The muscles contract and extend in perfect harmony. With each stretch comes an ache and a burst of physical joy. My body is thanking me for the exercise, rewarding me with jolts of near-narcotic adrenaline.
The more I run, the lighter I feel, the pain falling free as if my paws are no longer striking the ground. Even as I race along the bottom of the ravine, I feel like Im still running downhill, gaining energy instead of expending it.
I want to run until all the tension in my body flies away, leaving nothing but the sensations of the moment. I couldnt stop if I wanted to. And I dont want to. Dead leaves crackle under my paws. Somewhere in the forest an owl hoots softly. It has finished its hunting and rests contented, not caring who knows its around. A rabbit bolts out of a thicket and halfway across my path, then realizes its mistake and zooms back into the undergrowth.
I keep running. My heart pounds. Against my rising body heat, the air feels ice-cold, stinging as it storms through my nostrils and into my lungs. I inhale, savoring the shock of it hitting my insides.
Im running too fast to smell anything. Bits of scents flutter through my brain in a jumbled montage that smells of freedom. Unable to resist, I finally skid to a halt, throw my head back, and howl.
The music pours up from my chest in a tangible evocation of pure joy. It echoes through the ravine and soars to the moonless sky, letting them all know Im here. I own this place! When Im done, I drop my head, panting with exertion.
Im standing there, staring down into a scattering of yellow and red maple. Its a growl, a soft, menacing growl. Theres a pretender to my throne. I look up to see a brownish yellow dog standing a few meters away. No, not a dog.
My brain takes a second, but it finally recognizes the animal. A coyote. The recognition takes a second because its unexpected. Ive heard there are coyotes in the city, but have never encountered one. The coyote is equally confused. Animals dont know what to make of me. They smell human, but see wolf and, just when they decide their nose is tricking them, they look into my eyes and see human.
When I encounter dogs, they either attack or turn tail and run. The coyote does neither. It lifts its muzzle and sniffs the air, then bristles and pulls its lips back in a drawn-out growl. Its half my size, scarcely worth my notice. I let it know this with a lazy get lost growl and a shake of my head. The coyote doesnt move. I stare at it. The coyote breaks the gaze-lock first. I snort, toss my head again, and slowly turn away.
Im halfway turned when a flash of brown fur leaps at my shoulder. Diving to the side, I roll out of the way, then scramble to my feet. The coyote snarls. I give a serious growl, a canine now youre pissing me off. The coyote stands its ground. It wants a fight. My fur rises on end, my tail bushing out behind me. I lower my head between my shoulder bones and lay my ears flat. My lips pull back and I feel the snarl tickling up through my throat then reverberating into the night. The coyote doesnt back down.
I crouch and Im about to lunge when something hits me hard in the shoulder, throwing me off balance. I stumble, then twist to face my attacker. A second coyote, gray-brown, hangs from my shoulder, fangs sunk to the bone. With a roar of rage and pain, I buck up and throw my weight to the side. As the second coyote flies free, the first launches itself at my face. Ducking my head, I catch it in the throat, but my. It tries to back off for a second lunge, but I leap at it, backing it into a tree.
Kelley Armstrong eBooks
It rears up, trying to get out of my way. I slash for its throat. This time I get my grip. Blood spurts in my mouth, salty and thick. The coyotes mate lands on my back. My legs buckle. Teeth sink into the loose skin beneath my skull. Fresh pain arcs through me. Concentrating hard, I keep my grip on the first coyotes throat.
I steady myself, then release it for a split second, just long enough to make the fatal slash and tear. As I pull back, blood sprays into my eyes, blinding me. I swing my head hard, ripping out the coyotes throat. Once I feel it go limp, I toss it aside, then throw myself on the ground and roll over. The coyote on my back yips in surprise and releases its hold.
I jump up and turn in the same motion, ready to take this other animal out of the game, but it scrambles up and dives into the brush. With a flash of wire-brush tail, its gone. I look at the dead coyote. Blood streams from its throat, eagerly lapped up by the dry earth below. A tremor runs through me, like the final shudder of sated lust. I close my eyes and shiver.
Not my fault. They attacked me first. The ravine has gone quiet, echoing the calm that floods through me. Not so much as a cricket chirps.
Bitten By Kelley Armstrong | Coyote | Odor
The world is dark and silent and sleeping. I try to examine and clean my wounds, but they are out of reach. I stretch and assess the pain. Two deep cuts, both bleeding only enough to mat my fur. Ill live. I turn and start the trip out of the ravine. In the alley I Change then yank my clothes on and scurry to the sidewalk like a junkie caught shooting up in the shadows. Frustration fills me. It shouldnt end like this, dirty and furtive, amidst the garbage and filth of the city. It should end in a clearing in the forest, clothes abandoned in some thicket, stretched out naked, feeling the coolness of the earth.
I should be falling asleep in the grass, exhausted beyond all thought, with only the miasma of contentedness floating through my mind. And I shouldnt be alone. In my mind, I can see the others, lying around me in the grass. I can hear the familiar snores, the occasional whisper and laugh. I can feel warm skin against mine, a bare foot hooked over my calf, twitching in a dream of running. I can smell them: The image shatters and I am staring into a shopwindow, seeing nothing but myself reflected back.
My chest tightens in a loneliness so deep and so complete I cant breathe. I turn quickly and lash out at the nearest object. A streetlamp quavers and rings with the blow. Pain sears down my arm. Welcome to realitychanging in alleyways and creeping back to my apartment.
I am cursed to live between worlds. On the one side there is normalcy. On the other, there is a place where I can be what I am with no fear of reprisals, where I can commit murder itself and scarcely raise the eyebrows of those around me, where I am even encouraged to do so to protect the sanctity of that world.
But I left and I cant return. I wont return. As I walk to the apartment, my anger blisters the pavement with every step. A woman curled up under a pile of dirty blankets peers out as I pass and instinctively shrinks back into her nest.
Momina Javed. Can you please share other books by sandra brown? Priya Barai. Hi can u post play dirty by sandra brown. Leave a comment Dan Brown. Deception Point - Dan Brown. Digital Fortress - Dan Brown. The Lost Symbol - Dan Brown. Sianim by Patricia Briggs. Masques - Patricia Briggs. Wolfsbane - Patricia Briggs.
Bitten By Kelley Armstrong
When Demons Walk - Patricia Briggs. Steal the Dragon - Patricia Briggs. League of Vampires by: Rye Brewer. Brenda Ang. Can you reshare Salvation? The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod by: Heather Brewer. Eight Grade Bites - Heather Brewer. Ninth Grade Slays - Heather Brewer. Tenth Grade Bleeds - Heather Brewer. Eleventh Grade Burns - Heather Brewer. Twelfth Grade Kills - Heather Brewer. Lady in Gil by: Rebecca Bradley. Lady In Gil - Rebecca Bradley.
Scion's Lady - Rebecca Bradley. Lady Pain - Rebecca Bradley. Liar's Club by: Celeste Bradley. The Pretender - Celeste Bradley. The Impostor - Celeste Bradley. Heiress Brides by: Duke Most Wanted - Celeste Bradley. Darkest Minds by: Alexandra Bracken. The Darkest Minds - Alexandra Bracken. Never Fade - Alexandra Bracken. Bachelor Chronicles by: Elizabeth Boyle. Something About Emmaline - Elizabeth Boyle. This Rake of Mine - Elizabeth Boyle.
Do you have the other books also? Normal Series by Holly Bourne. Demon Underground by: Parker Blue.