Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I look back down at the disc. The design of the horse and rider is in copper relief. But when I pick it up, I find a shiny surface on the other side and my own face staring back at me.
It is a mirror. A very old, very intricate mirror.
And even though I can’t read that writing I know it’s a magical item. One made for me.
I smile and hold it to my chest. Something mine. All mine.
“What’s that?”
I look over, surprised, and find Ryet—in all his vampire glory—bracing himself against the doorjamb to the bedroom. He’s pale, and weak, and breathing heavy. Like it’s a labor to even be alive.
“You’re awake!” I put the mirror down and rush over to him, placing a hand on his cheek. He’s cool now. Maybe too cool. “How are you feeling?”
Ryet attempts a smile, doesn’t quite manage it, and hoarsely croaks out his words. “Better, I think. But not great. How long was I out?”
“A day or so? I kinda lost track of time, so I don’t really know.”
“How are you feeling? My last memory is of taking care of you. I ate some…” His gaze goes over to the complement of jars on the kitchen counter. “Some of those. And fed you my blood. Did it work?”
“I think so? I’m not sure. I don’t feel all the way better. My stomach is really upset. But I don’t have a craving for blood and I’m not unconscious, so… jars for the win?”
He manages a bigger smile and nods his head over at the box. “What’s that?”
“Tristin just dropped it off.” I take Ryet’s hand and lead him over to the table. “Come on, sit down. Let’s look at it because I don’t really know what it is.”
He sits, his wings drooping to the floor like he hasn’t got the energy to hold them up. He lets out a long sigh, then reluctantly slides his eyes up to meet mine. “I look like a monster.”
I shrug one shoulder and take the seat across from him.
“Don’t I repulse you, Syrsee?”
I sigh as well. “It’s… just… who you are, Ryet. And I’ve already seen the hot version, so that’s how you are in my mind.” I pause, think about what I just said, then add, “Wow. That was really shallow and inconsiderate of me.”
He attempts a chuckle. “At least it’s the truth.”
“I don’t think you’ll always look like this. Paul doesn’t look like that most of the time.”
“He hides it.”
“Well.” I swallow. Because this is… hard. “I can’t deny that you’re scary, Ryet. You look like a demon.”
“I am a demon.”
“Right. But… you’re my demon.” My smile is real when it comes out. “And this”—I reach for the copper disc and hold it up—“this is mine too. Two things. I have two things in this world that are mine. Just mine and no one else’s. You, and this thing right here. So… whatever you look like, it doesn’t matter. That’s what I meant when I said I see you as hot-Ryet. I wasn’t trying to say I prefer you as a man, I’m saying that all I care about is the man inside.”
He stretches his arms across the table and takes my hand in both of his, giving it a squeeze and letting out a breath at the same time. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
“It’s gonna be OK, Ryet. I really think it is.”
He doesn’t look convinced. In fact, he winces. Like he knows something. Something bad.
Which makes me want to change the subject, so that’s what I do. “I never explained what happened to me when I was in that room up in the Montana mansion. But this is what happened to me.” I hand him the little book of watercolor illustrations and he takes it from me, shuffling through the pages slowly, studying each one.
When he’s done, he starts over and looks through them again. Then, finally, he looks at me. “What is this?”
“A myth? The truth? I’m not really sure. But that girl—she tamed this monster and…”
I begin to tell the story, trying to recall all the little details, like how Lucia took me underwater and I thought I was gonna drown. And the ice, and the little girl who tames the sea monster that looked like a cross between a seahorse and an octopus.
“But what does it mean?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, Ryet. It’s just the beginning of my bloodline. I think.”
He sighs and looks past me. “Your bloodline.” Then he looks me in the eyes. “Everything’s about blood these days. You drank me. Do you remember?”
I nod. “I do.”
“It’s… well… I have something to tell you.”
A weird feeling passes through my body. Like my muscles release every bit of stored energy inside them and it floods my bloodstream all at once. It’s a sudden burst of adrenaline, and then, a moment later, it’s a feeling of being spent. Done. Drained.