By Laken Cane
Rune and the crew--some of them a bit fitter, a few of them a bit extra battered--take on new monsters and incredible surprises in Blood and Bite.
While Rune is maintaining her promise to Ellis and attempting to get her brain mounted, the berserker is going away to maintain a few business--mysterious enterprise he doesn't proportion with Shiv Crew.
What he brings again with him knocks the wind out of Rune and makes her query every little thing she inspiration she knew approximately Strad Matheson.
But the worst is but to come.
With a mad vampire grasp she needs to smash, a baby she needs to store, and incredible screams from a previous she has to disregard, Rune has her fingers complete. yet there's constantly whatever new and poor ready in River County--waiting, it sort of feels, only for her.
Because simply whilst she thinks she can't very likely deal with yet one more negative factor, she discovers a stunning fact approximately herself, her blood, and her chew.
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Additional resources for Blood and Bite (Rune Alexander, Book 2)
But she was not, November found, when she kissed her outside the restaurant, under the washed-out constellations. She tasted like flour, flour and salt. Their breasts pressed tight together between two fog-dewed overcoats, the ache of it half-painful and half-pleasant. Xiaohui took her to a little apartment above a grocery store, and they fell together just inside the doorframe, awkwardly, like great beasts too eager for niceties. She bit November’s lower lip, and there was blood between them then.
He would watch her angles under the strings, the crease of her legs beneath an immodest skirt, her lips moving against the glass. The little wet fog of her breath. She could almost tell what he looked like without turning her head: good black suit, a little too small, clutching his briefcase like a talisman, probably a little gray at the temples, no rings on his hands. They all looked like that. Sei turned, her blue hair brushing her hipbones. Good black suit, a little too small, clutched briefcase, freckles of gray in the hair.
It was not his fault that that simple thing instilled so much trust in him, so much instinctive, automatic familiarity. Lyudmila had locked herself out of her tall, narrow house, where her cats mewled in panicked sopranos from within. “That was my sister’s name,” he said softly as he put his eye to the lock in her brownstone, his lashes falling just inside the old metal. The woman spoke to him hopefully in Russian. This occasionally happened, and he dreaded it. He could speak no more than a few words now, those snow-slushed consonants and swallowed vowels having receded into the same icy mist as Novgorod.
Blood and Bite (Rune Alexander, Book 2) by Laken Cane