Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Me
I’m aware.
Enki
Jealous?
Me
You know I never sleep with them.
Enki
The fairies?
Me
The sacrifices.
Enki
And yet you tell them that you’re going to bang them into next year.
Though I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t say I was tempted with her. I made a vow though, and I’ll never go back on it. I have people like Enki who are more than happy to take on the tedious task of sleeping around.
Me
Because it scares them, idiot.
Enki
Because you’re Ra and the idea of your dick somehow getting anywhere near them means burning them alive.
I roll my eyes and stare at the tally marks in the tree. Most of them don’t make it that long.
They all have to come willingly, because every single one of them knows the myths and sees it as an honor. After all, every single one of them, regardless of what corner of the earth they come from, has one single interest—finding their twin. Chaos does not create one, it creates two each time.
I don’t respond to Enki’s crude comment. Instead, I walk back inside and do what I always do before a sacrifice.
I make toast and pretend it’s another mundane day. Then I dress and send the text to everyone.
Me
It’s the year of the dragon. Tonight. Seven.
Nobody replies; it’s not necessary.
I look out at the sky and shake my head as the sun comes out, reflecting against the suddenly calm water.
“Ken.” I salute the island. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
He says nothing.
For once he’s quiet during the calling as though he’s sad, and while that may be so, emotions are for the weak. I wonder if he’ll miss me, not that it matters, what am I even thinking?
It doesn’t matter how beautiful she is, or how different, her ending will be the same as the beginning.
Getting life breathed into her only to be sucked right back out.
“Pity,” I whisper. “That she was as unfortunate as she is to be born that way.”
Another leaf falls from the tree.
Rat stares down at it and then hides next to the rock by the lower branches.
How nice to be able to hide from destiny.
How foolish.
CHAPTER 20
CLEO
“Where wolf’s ears are, wolf’s teeth are near.” —Volsunga Saga, ch. 19
What do you do when you’re living with someone who thinks he’s an actual immortal and you’re seeing weird things? No wonder he was talking about vampires and everything else the other day; he’s clinically insane. So, I have one choice. Believe him and freak out or get to work and ignore his rumblings.
I ignore all the signs because to believe anything else means a nervous breakdown. I think I’m doing pretty good until my hands are shaking so hard I can barely unwrap an artifact. I quickly set it down and get on my phone to Prime in some rosemary and sage, and a shit ton, enough to cleanse the house ten times.
The things Cyrus even said about Jake were weird as if he has him in a dungeon somewhere. I was too weirded out and petrified to ask if he knew exactly where he went. Maybe I am going crazy though. Mom used to say weird things before the end, but that’s what happens when you stare out the window during storms as if you wish you could be electrocuted. I miss her. I miss her so much, but in the end, sometimes I wonder if it was better that she had to pass that way, because she seemed more and more miserable. Petrified some days, happy the next.
Is the same thing happening to me?
I focus my thoughts on all I have. Research. Jake. Breathing.
I can at least look through Jake’s work.
History, after all, never lets you down. Books are truth: black ink, white paper, artifacts show us things from years of being buried we would never have known had we not searched. For a while, they center you in a reality even if it’s part fantasy; someone still created it, birthed it.
I pull in a long breath. I open up The Book of the Dead and read through the names.
Just focus on death and not the gorgeous man upstairs who says he’s going to be the one to bring it, sounds super easy. Yup, don’t focus on the gorgeous man upstairs who’s having a mid-life crisis and thinks he’s the God of the Sun, or his best friend who old ladies follow down the street, or, you know, the grumpy contractor who saved your life, or even the weirdly beautiful man who seems to hate Cyrus with every fiber of his being only to come over for dinner like he has no choice.
I forgot about the store. Crap, where did I even put the bag of clothes? The necklace? I touch my neck and nearly pass out. The necklace is on me. I don’t remember putting it there. Does that mean my clothes are in my room? Closet? Put away? Did I sleepwalk?