Playing With Fire. Kat Black
Читать онлайн книгу.
id="uaa29c6d7-59b6-5669-8179-73a048e64bab">
PLAYING WITH FIRE
The Sequel to Melting Ms Frost
Kat Black
Mischief
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
Copyright © Kat Black 2015
Kat Black asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © FEBRUARY 2015 ISBN: 9780008128241
Version: 2015–01–15
Contents
Epilogue: Teach na Tulaí, Co. Cork, Ireland
This one is for my readers. Your support made this book possible. Thank you so much.
It was happening again.
Please, no. Not again.
A bubble of fear inflated in Annabel’s chest, trapping the air in her lungs as it rose to clog her throat. She fought to release it, to cry out, but the dark shape looming over her shifted closer; a crushing vice tightened around her neck, squeezing off her voice, cutting off her very breath.
She didn’t understand. How? How could this be happening?
Panic flared as she tried to get her bearings, to work out where she was. But dimness rendered her surroundings murky, indistinct. In the shadows, even the threat bearing down on her with such suffocating weight remained faceless. Terrifying.
No … no. Horror-spiked memories of pain and helplessness flooded her mind, jolting her into action. She couldn’t do this. Not again.
Never again.
Lashing out, she rained a storm of wild swings and strikes upon her attacker. But not once did she connect with solid form. Her fists seemed to pass through the nebulous shape as though her enemy was no more substantial than mist. She renewed her efforts, tried to pinpoint her aim, but black spots began to bloom around the edge of her vision and the watery blur of tears made it impossible to focus on what it was that she needed to fight.
Move, every atom of her being screamed. It was her only chance. She had to move, to get away.