Rook (WEST COAST INKVERSE) by London Lennox EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: London Lennox
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.3 MB
- Price: Free
Rook
Centrifuge is broken again, and I don’t trust my bloody drones to do a thing.
I’m hunched over my makeshift workbench, screwdriver in hand and a
mess of wires and vials spread out before me. The antidote’s a stubborn son
of a bitch, dancing just beyond the edge of my intellect. A faint hum buzzes
through the air, the telltale sign of another late night with nothing to show
for it.
Then it starts—the rhythmic thumping from above, punctuated by a moan
that cuts through the silence like a siren through fog. I thrust the
screwdriver down and push back from the table, frustration gnawing at my
insides.
Can’t be a break-in; thieves don’t moan like that.
But I have a good idea who does.
Climbing the stairs, I brace myself. Sure enough, as I near the top, the
sounds get clearer, filthier.
It’s Aisling and Oberon going at it.
Again.
I lean against the wall, shaking my head, the heat from their frenzy seeping
through the floorboards.
“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath, “my house, my goddamn sanctuary
turned into a 24-hour porno theater.”
It’s not like I didn’t know what I was signing up for when I offered Aisling
and Oberon a place to crash. But fuck me if I’d anticipated the non-stop
skin flicks. I can practically hear the soundtrack of their lust from any
corner of the house, at most hours…and I’ve mentioned it once or twice,
but they didn’t seem to care.
And then there’s everything else—Gunnar is MIA, probably plotting his
next move or licking his wounds, who knows with that guy now that he’s
gone rogue. Luka’s turned his spooky old church into his personal fortress
of solitude, trying to keep his head and heart away from Aisling’s pull. And
Vance? Last I heard, the big bad Archangel’s holed up in his mansion,
playing hermit.
‘Fuck palace’ doesn’t even begin to cover the madhouse my life’s become.
I retreat back to the lab, the echoes of Aisling’s pleasure haunting my
descent. Back amongst the vials and microscopes, I try to focus on the task
at hand—but the antidote’s allure has faded, replaced by the carnal
soundtrack upstairs.
“Guess it beats being alone,” I say to the empty lab, pouring a sarcasm that
no one’s around to appreciate. One of my drone’s cameras swings toward
me, but there’s no sign of recognition.
Robots just can’t take a joke.
With a sigh that feels more like surrender than relief, I shove my hands in
my pockets and trudge toward the kitchen. Maybe there’s a bottle with
enough bite to drown out the soundtrack of my housemates’ escapades.
My hand finds my phone as I head upstairs, thumbing through the contacts
until Luka’s name pops up.
He’s probably the last person who wants a chat,
but hell, maybe he’s got a lead on where the hell this new form of eros is
coming from. I thought we’d rooted it out when we took over New Eden,
but apparently it’s got a new source…and it’s not in Pacific City or Oasis,
our neighbors to the east. Luka’s always had stupid intuition for these
things, and I haven’t caught up with him in a while.
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