All Hail the Shifter King
Title: Hangover
Word Count: 429
Crossposted here at runaway_tales
Author's Note: A little something from the beginning of the book (much like the last entry), following Katrina's arrival in Rion Fell. Poor Gavin. He's probably regretting inviting her already.
She didn’t bother knocking before pushing open Gavin’s door, flooding the room with afternoon sunlight. It took a moment for her to spot him, sprawled on the couch across the room from his bed, his heavy duvet piled on top of him so that only tufts of his blond hair peeked out from beneath it. The air conditioning was so high that Katrina shivered, and when she dropped her purse on the floor, the contents clattering and jangling noisily, he flinched and moaned loudly.
“Gods above, woman,” he groused, his voice thick. “Take it down a few pegs, yeah?”
“I arrived safely,” she announced, far louder than necessary. “If you were wondering.”
“Yes, yes, Eli called me from the airport.” One of his thin arms snaked out from beneath the blanket and he made a shooing gesture. “Why don’t we talk it over in a few hours?” he suggested, unable to see her as she crossed the room to his desk. “I’m dying to catch up on your work up north, but right now -” His words ended in a pained hiss as she dragged the wooden chair away from the desk and across the tiled floor, taking her time circling around in front of him. After she sat down, there were several seconds of total silence before he finally tugged the blanket down enough that he could glare at her with one bloodshot red eye. “In case I’ve not told you lately,” he said, “you’re a wretched, wretched woman.”
“You have told me lately, actually.”
“Obviously a reminder couldn’t hurt.” He sighed heavily and pushed the duvet down to his waist, exposing his pale face and rumpled polo shirt, and made several dramatic noises of protest as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “What is it, four in the morning?”
“Three in the afternoon.”
“Oh.” He fumbled over the arm of the sofa until he found his half-empty bottle of water. “Did Eli show you any of the facility?”
“He did.”
“Nice fellow, isn’t he? Most everyone here loves him. Not hard on the eyes, either, which is -”
“When were you going to tell me what’s been happening?” she asked, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Six people dead in as many days, Gav. Don’t you think this should have prompted a phone call or two?”
He stared at her, stunned, then looked down at his lap and scratched his head.
“Don’t recall putting that in the reports…” he murmured.
“Eli told me.”
“Oh. Hells. I take back the nice things I said, then.”
Word Count: 429
Crossposted here at runaway_tales
Author's Note: A little something from the beginning of the book (much like the last entry), following Katrina's arrival in Rion Fell. Poor Gavin. He's probably regretting inviting her already.
She didn’t bother knocking before pushing open Gavin’s door, flooding the room with afternoon sunlight. It took a moment for her to spot him, sprawled on the couch across the room from his bed, his heavy duvet piled on top of him so that only tufts of his blond hair peeked out from beneath it. The air conditioning was so high that Katrina shivered, and when she dropped her purse on the floor, the contents clattering and jangling noisily, he flinched and moaned loudly.
“Gods above, woman,” he groused, his voice thick. “Take it down a few pegs, yeah?”
“I arrived safely,” she announced, far louder than necessary. “If you were wondering.”
“Yes, yes, Eli called me from the airport.” One of his thin arms snaked out from beneath the blanket and he made a shooing gesture. “Why don’t we talk it over in a few hours?” he suggested, unable to see her as she crossed the room to his desk. “I’m dying to catch up on your work up north, but right now -” His words ended in a pained hiss as she dragged the wooden chair away from the desk and across the tiled floor, taking her time circling around in front of him. After she sat down, there were several seconds of total silence before he finally tugged the blanket down enough that he could glare at her with one bloodshot red eye. “In case I’ve not told you lately,” he said, “you’re a wretched, wretched woman.”
“You have told me lately, actually.”
“Obviously a reminder couldn’t hurt.” He sighed heavily and pushed the duvet down to his waist, exposing his pale face and rumpled polo shirt, and made several dramatic noises of protest as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “What is it, four in the morning?”
“Three in the afternoon.”
“Oh.” He fumbled over the arm of the sofa until he found his half-empty bottle of water. “Did Eli show you any of the facility?”
“He did.”
“Nice fellow, isn’t he? Most everyone here loves him. Not hard on the eyes, either, which is -”
“When were you going to tell me what’s been happening?” she asked, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Six people dead in as many days, Gav. Don’t you think this should have prompted a phone call or two?”
He stared at her, stunned, then looked down at his lap and scratched his head.
“Don’t recall putting that in the reports…” he murmured.
“Eli told me.”
“Oh. Hells. I take back the nice things I said, then.”