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by N. J. Walters
An excerpt from
Aurora's Triangle
Copyright©2006 Titania Ladley
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
Her pulse pounded and her eyes narrowed…watching, waiting, for what? For a corpse to come to life?
“Ridiculous.” She chuckled uneasily. “Of course he didn’t move. He’s dead, you idiot.”
Aurora let out a long breath and shook off the terror that threatened to choke her. To prove to herself she wasn’t some skittish, brainless twit, she walked around the large table to study the other man. This time, she held her hands clasped behind her back while she bent over the ice and considered the second cadaver. He wasn’t quite as muscle-bound as the other, but his long, lean body certainly appealed to her just as much. Sandy blond hair slightly longer than the other’s framed a face she could only describe as beautiful. Thick brown eyebrows and lashes that fanned over sculpted cheeks were the first facial features that drew her attention.
“Let’s see, I bet your eyes are blue. And the other guy…” She shot a quick glance across the ice humps. “His are brown.”
Pleased with the fantasy of two pairs of sultry male eyes gazing at her, she continued her perusal of Ice Man Number Two. He’d definitely taken care of his body just as much as Ice Man Number One. But where the first had a bodybuilder’s physique, the second had more of an athlete’s build, like a cross-country biker or a rock climber. She stepped to her right and took in the nicely formed, smooth chest, the flat abdomen and the narrow hips.
Unable to resist, she unclasped her hands and set them on the damp table next to the ice, leaning closer to get a more detailed look. Her gaze flitted lower. “Wow, would you look at—”
Aurora gasped, cutting off her own rambling comment when her hand brushed a cold, fleshy object. She felt something wrap around her wrist making her gaze jerk down the length of her right arm. The sensation of ice wound tight over her pulse point was confirmed to be a hand—the dead man’s hand. She’d been so fascinated with his striking looks, she hadn’t noticed the ice had melted around his lower arm leaving it completely exposed on the table’s edge.
Her head swam with dizziness. The surrealism of the unexpected, frightening moment made her world wobble. Her wrist tingled like it might after an insect had dined on the tissue near her erratically beating pulse.
“Oh—oh, God…” She swallowed audibly. Her heart leapt into her throat making it impossible to scream.
Before she could attempt to yank her wrist free and run, she heard the crack of splitting ice. Aurora’s legs trembled, suddenly feeling like limp taffy. She fell to her knees at the slab’s edge and a shriek of terror finally tore from her chest. Looking up, she watched, spellbound, as the man rose slowly to a sitting position, chunks of ice splattering around him. The broken pieces made a song of clinks and zings as they bounced and slid off the table and onto the concrete floor. All the while, he bent forward, his enormous hand remaining wrapped about her arm, steely firm and unbelievably strong—for a dead man.
Her knees seemed to be frozen to the floor. She gaped up at him for eons, mesmerized by his eyes. Finally, she snatched in a lungful of air and caught the subtle scent of man mixed with a perplexing tropical aroma. Emotions and fears all seemed to scatter as one thought echoed in her mind.
I was wrong about the eyes. They’re not blue. They’re shimmering golden brown…just like the fires of hell.
– - –Endre Boldizsar gazed down into orbs the very color of violets. The striking irises were ringed by a thin green circle, like leaves framing purple blooms. Ah, and those pupils…damn, they were dilated like the eyes of a female Vencelze vampire in heat!
She didn’t so much as blink, but instead, took on the expression of a human already enspelled by one of his nearly extinct Vencelze kin. He hadn’t yet invaded her thoughts to perform such a spell, so the very sight of her free-willed response to him awakened long-buried sensations within his soul. To finally face her flesh-to-flesh did strange things to his insides. He took one quick downward sweep of her from head to knees, and it nearly made him shift into his falcon state of being and whisk her off to his home on Balitori Island. The honey-toned hair hung over a slim shoulder and draped across the large swell of one breast. It appeared to be drawn into a low ponytail at the nape of her appetizing neck. He could well imagine releasing the shimmering tresses and entangling his hands in the thickness as he took her with robust passion…as he sank his fangs into that smooth, blood-engorged nook above her collarbone.



