Written exclusively for members of the Patreon platform, Damon is now available for all readers. Previously, this work was only available directly to Patrons or in the Blade Song Anniversary Edition, which is no longer sold.
This novella takes place immediately before Blade Song in the Kit Colbana timeline.
I love to watch you work…
What the bitch queen—aka Annette, Alpha of the Southern Cat Clans—meant was, I love to watch you kill.
Damon Lee has been hiding his claws, his teeth and his strength from the Orlando Alpha as he bides his time. He’s in the city for a reason, but he’s keeping that close to his chest and has no desire to draw attention to himself, or to the strength that lies caged within.
But when the kid he loves like a son disappears, he’s faced with a choice. Does he risk losing one of the few people who matter? Does he risk letting the beast out before it’s time, knowing it could screw everything up? Or is there another option?
“Oh, Damon. Your face…your poor face.” The breathy, little girl voice, sweeter than sugar, really didn’t fit the insane woman who’d just spoken to me.
I’ve have long since grown used to that voice—and her violent tendencies—and didn’t bat an eyelash as she bent over me and stroked a hand down my cheek. Annette, local ruler of the cat clan, ruler of all she surveyed — except me — and batshit crazy psychopath, caught my chin and lifted my face upright.
For a moment, her face faded in and out of focus. The touch of her hand under my chin had bones grinding together. I didn’t make a sound.
Blinking my one good eye, I focused on her face until it stopped swimming in and out. The other eye was still swollen shut, although it was healing bit by bit.
I was the perfect punching bag for a lunatic.
I was big and strong and I healed fast.
In another few minutes, the bruises and bloody wounds would be gone and once I showered, nobody would be the wiser.
Save for me.
Even Annette would forget.
“Does it hurt?” She stared at me solemnly, her lips puckered, touched with a soft, pale pink that matched the negligee she’d pulled on earlier. Even the splattering of blood on her lower lip was echoed in the blood spray on the pink silk.
“Damon, does it hurt?” She stroked a hand down my cheek.
Yes, bitch. It hurts. Mentally, I told her exactly what she wanted to hear—the truth. Out loud, I said, “I’m fine, Lady.”
In other Kit news: Many have asked if there’s going to be another Kit book…and yes, there will be. I had to take some time away from here, which I talk about here at my J.C. Daniels site, but I’m back to working on her story again. Thank you for your patience.