Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Elena could understand the weapons-master’s worry. But she knew her job as a friend. “Men,” she said with a scowl. “As if you can’t feed yourself.”
Jessamy’s cheeks grew pink. “Actually, I keep forgetting to eat.” With that, she grabbed nuts out of a bowl and shoved them into her mouth. “Galen left these, too, plus dried fruits,” she muttered after she’d chewed and swallowed the mouthful.
Elena couldn’t laugh at what both of them would’ve found funny at any other time. “How is the structural situation?”
Jessamy’s headshake was dejected, her lips pursed tight. “We’ve had to take down two more large buildings. Many of the pathways are cracked, bridges deemed too hazardous to cross. A new sinkhole filled with toxic hot water appeared only hours ago—right next to the School building.”
“Shit.” Elena had kept up with the official reports Trace sent on behalf of the Refuge team, but this must’ve happened after his latest missive.
“Yes, exactly that.” Jessamy tucked a loose strand of hair impatiently behind her ear. “I did get a bit of good news earlier, though. Vivek tells me Katrina might’ve had some luck in tracking down a longer record of the myth Vivek first discovered.”
Elena wasn’t sure what she thought of the owner of the Boudoir. Katrina was a law-abiding citizen on the surface, but Elena was well aware of the dark threads that ran through the vampire’s entire operation. She had the feeling that the world only ever saw a part of Katrina—the palatable part.
The rest was kept under lock and key.
But Elena was also no longer the hunter who’d seen the world in strictly black-and-white terms. She’d matured, learned that neither mortals nor immortals could be so cleanly divided. People were complicated. Katrina could be both a threat—and a woman with a conscience.
“You think it’ll be useful?” she said to Jessamy.
Jessamy’s slim shoulders rose and fell in a tired shrug. “Immortals are old enough that it might be an important piece of our history turned into myth. Or it could be nothing but fantasy. We won’t know until Vivek retrieves Katrina’s find.”
35
The full moon was high in the sky when Vivek got out of his favorite taxi in front of one of the gates into Central Park. This time Hakim just shook his head. “You gonna gimme your next of kin, boss? So I can inform those good folks that your foolish skinny ass walked into your death, never to be seen again?”
Vivek grinned. “I’m one of the monsters, remember?”
But Hakim was having none of it. “Naw. You one of the soft bellies. Well, your funeral, boss. Make sure I get an invite.”
Vivek was still scowling at being called a soft belly when, leaning hard on his cane, he entered the lush green alleyway that would lead him to the spot Katrina had chosen as the location of their meeting. The murmuring void that was the night was full of eyes that watched him. Because Hakim was right in one sense—at midnight, Central Park was full of predators, mortal and not.
None of those predators, however, prowled up to him with nefarious intent. Neither did anyone slither out to make an indecent proposal. Because vampires got off on illicit nighttime assignations just like mortals. He figured angels, too. They just had the advantage of being able to meet in the sky or on rooftops far from prying eyes.
As for why no one approached him with sexual intent, a large number were probably wondering what the hell a Tower vamp was doing here—and worried he was about to bust them for something. The rest were likely turned off by his visible disability. A certain class of vampires bought into the whole “vampirism leads to physical perfection” spiel, and he was a walking slap in their conceited faces.
Vivek could’ve raged about that, but he’d lived too long in this body to be bothered by random assholes. Vamp or not, they all sang the same pathetic and unoriginal tune. Not worth the waste of energy. The pettiness in him did find it funny that his mere existence messed with their worldview. Factor in his attachment to the Tower, and wowee, he’d probably caused more than one rage stroke.
He smiled.
A stir in the night ahead of him, a woman in darkest red stepping out of the shadows. Her gown featured a wide, flowing skirt but was fitted to emphasize her tiny waist and curving hips, the creamy flesh of her breasts plumping up over the curve of the neckline. The hat that sat jauntily on her head was the same hue but festooned with black ribbon and a spray of black blooms on one side.
A small black fan hung from one wrist. Diamonds twinkled in her ears.
Pushing up the strap of the messenger bag he carried on one shoulder, Vivek spoke past his thudding heart. “Lady Katrina. We do meet in the most interesting places.”