By Jaye Roycraft
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Additional resources for Afterimage
She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her loathing for the l’enforcier increased even more. How dare he reduce the centuries-long struggle against persecution to a snit over political correctness? She closed her eyes and swallowed. She mustn’t fight with him. She mustn’t. Her survival depended on it. She opened her eyes. “Don’t bother with apologies. ” “Comme vous voudrez. As you wish. Andrei, the dhampir, had extraordinary abilities, did he not? ” She swallowed again, but the tightness in her throat made it difficult.
Thursday night, however, she slept peacefully, her dreams undisturbed by blue eyes filled with death. She took it as a good sign. She woke filled with energy. She straightened up her studio, anxious to show Jaime her latest works of finished art as well as her sketches and thumbnails for new ideas she had. But it was a glorious, warm spring day, far too nice to spend entirely in the house. Marya passed the early afternoon in the backyard gardening, but came back inside in plenty of time to shower and change.
Bravo, mademoiselle! I admire your spirit. Few would dare say such a thing to l’enforcier. Tell me something. ” Marya didn’t smile in return. A left-handed compliment from Drago was nothing to be happy about. “I don’t have any clear memories of my father, just vague impressions, but he told my mother all the stories of the Undead that he had heard, and she relayed them all to me when I was a child. ” The corner of one dark brow moved almost imperceptibly. She shook her head. “Are you surprised?
Afterimage by Jaye Roycraft