Derek Gaunt személy
Age: 18
Hair: brown, longish
Eyes: brown
Beast Form: wolf
He has a good, steady warrior form. He can speak in his warrior form.
Allergic to tortoises.
Idézetek
He sat up, wrapping the blanket around him like a robe. She smiled at him.
“How long was I out?”
“The whole day.”
She had stayed with him. She hadn’t left and called for pickup; she’d just stayed here, where he’d fallen, and watched over him.
Julie dug in the bag. “I grabbed some food from the food cart passing by. It’s not deer babies, but you’ll just have to suffer through it.”
He reached out and touched her hand.
She paused and looked at him, her eyes bottomless.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For staying with me.”
“You’re welcome, Wolf,” she said quietly.
He realized then that she would’ve sat by him as long as it took and that he was still holding her hand. He made himself let go.
“Will you stop bossing me around?”
“Stop doing stupid crap, and I’ll stop.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Eat my horse’s ass.”
Ugh. No thanks. “What, was Desandra at the house recently?”
“I don’t need Desandra to teach me insults. And what the hell is it with all the comments about what I’m wearing? There’s nothing wrong with these shorts.”
“Don’t you own any jeans?”
“I do.”
“You should wear them.”
“Why? Is the sight of my legs disturbing you, Derek?” She stopped Peanut and stuck her left leg out in front of him. “Is there something wrong with my legs?”
There was nothing wrong with her legs. They were pale and muscular, and men who should know better noticed them. He was not going to notice them for a list of reasons a mile long, starting with the fact that she was sixteen, and he was twenty.
Curran looked at me. “Does this seem odd to you?”
“Everything about this seems odd to me. Ghouls are solitary. They live near cemeteries, they hide in burrows, and they travel at dawn or during the night. They don’t band into groups and prance about in broad daylight in a residential neighborhood. Unless the owner of that house is a serial killer and he’s got his victims buried in his backyard, there is no reason for them to be here.”
“There are no bodies in the backyard,” Derek said. “I would’ve smelled decomp.”
Sense of humor check, failed.