Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lyric promised as she headed toward the house with Jocelyn at her side.
A laugh escaped me, coming out like a snort before I could stop it as the females walked away.
“Seriously?” Talon asked.
“You think Cassandra’s pretty, my brother.” I grinned, giving my brother shit even though I’d already had the thought.
“Fuck off.” He flipped me the bird and followed the queen.
Benedict stared at me, his brow furrowed in thought.
“What is it truth-teller?” I asked.
“You’ve said that twice about Talon,” he mused. “That he’s your brother.”
“They all are.” I cocked a brow at the assassin. “Zachariah, Dagon, even Saint.”
“Just don’t forget that we are, too.” He backed up a few steps then turned to walk into the residence. “Oh, and since Dagon and Saint didn’t exactly leave their plans outlined, you’re free the rest of the night,” he called back over his shoulder.
I checked my watch. It was a little after midnight, and I was free? I should take the time to feed, but sinking my fangs into one of the human necks inside the Domum wasn’t appealing.
I knew exactly where I wanted to be.
Driving was definitely the best part of living in this century. The engine of the Range Rover purred as I followed the map on the glowing screen, taking the turns the computer told me to.
I would have much rather wended, but our powers were limited to the places we’d been before, and I’d certainly never been to this particular location. It was a neighborhood deep within human territory with houses that I knew were Craftsmans due to Dagon’s fixation with HGTV while we were coming out of stasis.
Finding the address I’d retrieved from an online database, I parked down the street so I didn’t scare Grace.
I just wanted to walk by her house to make sure that nothing was amiss. She was so full of life, so intent on living to the fullest that I couldn’t stomach the thought of her being hurt, or worse, her life being cut short.
Shoving the key into my pocket, I walked the uneven pavement of her neighborhood, taking note of where the roots of trees had lifted and cracked the cement with their growth over the years. The night was soft as a lover around me, the sound of crickets making me smile.
I approached the house the internet said was hers and found the porch light on, the rhythmic sound of soft, squeaking metal accompanying the sight of a swaying porch swing.
Who the fuck was on her porch? I reached for my Sig.
“It’s just me,” she said. “Though I’m sure my neighbors wouldn’t appreciate you shouting about my imaginary company.”
My eyebrows shot up, and I left my weapon holstered. Shit, had I fired off at the mouth again without realizing it? That was becoming a bad habit around her. “I wasn’t shouting,” I said in my defense, walking up the wooden steps of her porch.
“May as well have been,” she said with a smile from where she lay on the porch swing, gently pushing off the floor with the one leg she let dangle.
Her freesia and peonies scent hit me, and I threw my focus into keeping my fangs where they belonged—put away. Fuck, the stab of hunger in my gut was unexpected. Maybe I really should have taken the time to feed. I threw down every shield I had as if mentally protecting myself would keep her safe from me.
She was dressed for bed in a pair of drawstring plaid pants and a sweater—no, a hoodie—with the local university’s logo on the front. In my century, she would have been in a shift, but then again, in my century, a woman this stunning never would have been left alone on a porch. I shook my head and reminded myself that this was now my century.
“Are you just going to stand there staring at me?” she asked with a smile, crinkling her nose as if we’d planned this.
“You aren’t going to ask how I knew you lived here?” I leaned back on the sturdy post of her porch and tucked my hands into the pockets of my leathers to keep them from reaching for her.
“No.” She shrugged and closed her book, leaving it on her stomach as she continued to rock. “The Grim Reaper knows where everyone lives, doesn’t he?”
I cracked a smile. “I’m not here to take your life, Grace.”
“Even if, I’m not sure it would be a bad way to go.” She sat up and folded her legs beneath her. “But as far as figments of my imagination go, you’re definitely the hottest hallucination I’ve ever had.”
“Not a hallucination.” I watched, utterly rapt, as she tugged a circle of fabric off her wrist and then tied her hair into some kind of knot and secured it.