Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I look around. It’s pretty. I’ll give it that. But she’s right. This place is boring and the people are kind of unsettling. And while Paul did leave me in that room and insinuate that I was going to live there while I did his remodel job, he never specifically ordered me to do that. So I shrug. “Well. Maybe we should move.”
“Are you asking me to run away with you?”
I’m pretty sure she’s the one who came up with this idea, but if she wants me to make the next move, I will. “Yeah. I’m asking you to run away with me.”
Her eyes search mine, like she’s thinking very hard. “Did I ever ask you if you were a serial killer?”
“I’m thinking we decided you were the serial killer, remember?”
She taps her chin with a fingertip. “That’s right. We did decide that. So, you’re OK with running away with a serial killer?”
“I think I can take you.”
She guffaws. “Do you think that?” There’s a little twinkle in her eye. Like she really might be some kind of jujitsu expert.
I take a step and close the distance between us, placing my hands on her hips as she stares up at me with a whole lifetime of expectations in those green eyes of hers. “I’m not a serial killer.”
Which is technically a lie, but also the truth. I have killed plenty of people over the decades, but I’m not hunting them. Well, there is that missing witch, who I am hunting. But Paul never told me to kill her. He said to bring her in. So I’m thinking that telling Syrsee that I’m not a serial killer is just a little white lie and not a mortal sin.
“Oh, my God.” She’s shaking her head. “I would pay good money to know what you’re thinking right now.”
“What? Why?”
“Whatever internal conversation you were just having with yourself must’ve been good. You had a look of tortured angst.”
“Angst?” Now it’s my turn to guffaw.
“No. Not just angst. Tortured angst.”
“Anyway.” But I’m smiling so big. Where has this woman been all my life? She really does feel like my best friend from back when we were twelve. “So. We’re running away?”
“I’m so in.”
“Do you wanna get your shit?” I point to the second floor of the hardware store.
“I think I’ll leave it.”
“Hedging your bets already?”
“Nope. Fresh start.”
“Oh.” I nod because that makes sense. “Do you want to drive?”
“Nope. I’m leaving the truck too.”
“Really?”
She slowly nods her head up and down. “Really.”
Her tone has changed, this one word coming out low and almost whispered. Like this is not some joke to her, but something very real.
“OK.” My tone matches hers. Then I say it again. “OK. Let’s run away. I’m driving.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - SYRSEE
The escape is still very much on.
What am I doing?
What. The fuck. Am I doing?
Well, it’s not really a mystery. I’m running and I’m taking Ryet with me.
But who am I running from, exactly? The vampire, Paul? No. He can find me anytime he wants through the dreamwalk. And I’m sure he can find Ryet that same way too.
And besides, if I was running from Paul, I wouldn’t need to leave the backpack and the truck behind. Because if I was running from Paul, those two things wouldn’t matter.
I’m not running from Paul. At least not yet.
I’m running from the Guild. Because they sent me here. They sent me here. There was some agreement between them and the vampire. And who was here waiting for me?
I look over at Ryet. He’s smiling as he drives the snowy mountain roads of Northern Idaho. When he notices me looking at him he smiles bigger.
How can this man—this charming, beautiful, careful man—be the scion who has been hunting me for my blood since I was born?
And how did I fall in love with him the moment we locked eyes in that stupid diner parking lot?
Fate, maybe.
Or magic, more likely.
And he has no idea who I am.
Which puts me in a precarious position.
Ya think, Syrsee?
How do I tell him? I have to tell him. He’s going to find out.
How do I explain any of this, actually? I fed him my blood last night. I fed him.
And I wasn’t even coerced.
He will make promises, darling. They will be magnificent promises.
But the vampire didn’t even do that. Not really. All he said was that Ryet was dying and I was his cure. It wasn’t a promise at all. It was something implied.
Save him and I get to keep him.
But the vampire never said that, Syrsee. He never said that.
And now that I think about it, I’m not saving Ryet for me. Not in Paul’s mind.
I’m saving Ryet for him.
That’s why we’re really running away.
Because Ryet is mine now and Paul can’t have him.
We don’t stop for lunch, just gas about an hour and a half out of town. Ryet turns the engine off and looks at me. “Want a snack?”