Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
He looks at it, then back at me. I see another shadow through the window, this one inside the lighthouse. I’m sure I’m not imagining it when Thiago glances at it as the shape moves.
“Give me that,” Thiago says.
I look up at his open palm and shake my head.
“I am not your enemy,” he says, taking another step toward me. I’m almost out of space. The railing is broken, and the catwalk is closed off a few feet from me. I can’t go around. That shape inside moves again, and again, Thiago glances at it. When he looks back at me, he seems angry. “Your enemy is much closer to home, and in his veins is the blood of a monster.”
The sound of the heavy metal door opening has us both turning, me trying to see around Thiago, him looking over his shoulder. Between the darkness and the rain, I can’t see who it is. What I know, though, is that I need to get away. Heavy footsteps approach us, and as I look around me for an escape, the railing I’m holding onto whines.
A moment later, there’s a sharp crack, and I scream as it gives way and cling to it as my feet lose purchase on the slippery planks.
Thiago calls out my name, lunging toward me and just as my grip beings to slide from the railing and I’m sure I’m going to go over, a hand wraps around my wrist and I’m jerked to a stop, jerked again when he hauls me up onto the catwalk. The air is knocked out of me for the second time this night as I crash against the wall, my head hitting unyielding stone. My vision falters, going dark, stars dancing. I’m going to be sick again.
Thiago says something, or someone else does. I force my eyes to open. Lightning crashes, illuminating the sky, and I see Thiago. His attention is on the man who is a shadow to me. Just before the night falls dark again, I watch that shadow lunge for Thiago.
I scream, rain pelting me when I look up to see that terrible scar circling Thiago’s neck, the cold steel of his eyes, and finally, the terror in those eyes as a hand slams against his chest. Thiago reaches for that hand, managing to catch the wrist momentarily, but it’s too late. He’s lost his balance.
Something clatters to the catwalk, bouncing and I hear the grunt of air leaving Thiago’s lungs and then the scream as his body goes toppling over the edge, that broken railing hanging useless behind him.
Before I can process what’s just happened, before I can scream or even breathe, the man who just pushed Thiago over grips my jaw and slams my head so hard against the wall that this time, there are no stars, no blurry vision. No momentary reprieve. There is only darkness.