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Ragging flooded through Alena’s small frame. The fine tea cup in her hand tumbled to the ground at her feet and shattered as she reached out for his throat. “There is a cure? You son of a bitch!” Apollo stood there unflinchingly but at the last second he batted away her angry talons as though she were no more than a fly. “Maybe, but you won’t find out that way.” Knowing he couldn’t be trusted, Alena took a step back and away from him, a step toward the edge of the cliff. “You’re still lying! You’re trying to get into my head, that’s all. You don’t have a cure. This is just another mind game of yours.” “Is it?” Apollo muttered thoughtfully. “Hmmmmm. Maybe. Maybe not.” Surely there was some pact with the devil to be made here and Alena wasn’t interested in signing on the dotted line. “Get out of here. Nothing that comes from your venomous lips is the truth. You’re just a nasty little boy with a wide cruel streak.” Apollo kept his voice tight as he bit back the sting of her barb. “Look into my eyes little Fae then tell me I’m lying,” Apollo challenged as he took a purposeful step toward her. “As for my cruel streak, you haven’t seen the worst of it yet.” He glanced down at her hip hidden below the tight fitting blue jeans. “What did you tell my Brother about the scar? I know you didn’t tell him it was me or I’d be dead. Is that because you dream of me in the night? This…nasty little boy,” Apollo whispered seductively. “Now that the belt is no longer between us do you lay awake aching to know how I’d feel inside you?” Instinct took over and Alena’s little hand curled up into a tight little fist as she landed a right hook across Apollo’s smug face. “You’re a pig!” Alena spat and took another step away

from him, another step closer to plunging off the cliff. “Get out!” Apollo rubbed his cheek and ran his tongue along the inside to catch the salty taste of his Ichor. His golden eyes rolled in her direction, the rage in them unveiled. He wanted to hit her back but that wouldn’t get him what he wanted. It wouldn’t do him any good if she fell off the cliff either still he ventured one more step. Alena backed up, lost her footing and began to topple just as he slipped his arm around her waist to catch her. “Fine,” he whispered, holding her close, “but when their eyes are glazed and the fever hits their brains, when they’re foaming at the mouth, snarling, trying to bite everything that comes into view as they twist and turn in agony, “ he glanced off toward the cave’s opening and then smiled slyly, “don’t say I didn’t offer.” Twirling her swiftly back to safety, Apollo chuckled and then disappeared from the cliff.

A life-long lover of romance, horror, and the paranormal world Lisa is 48 years-old and lives in her hometown of New London, CT with Roy her husband of 28 years. Together they have weathered every storm imaginable as they raised two beautiful daughters to adulthood.

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