Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“I don’t know. He’d definitely be defying his leader if he was helping us.”
“Sometimes our leaders mean well, but they are out of touch,” the basajaun said as they stalled in the shadows of a street corner.
“But the question still remains—what’s in it for him?”
“One thing is for sure,” Sebastian said, checking his phone. “He’s very good at evading Cyra. Right before he showed up at the bar, she sent a text to Hollace saying she’d lost sight of him.” He chuckled.
“Right, okay.” Nessa looked around. “I don’t see any shifter patrols. What’s the plan?”
“First we find them,” Sebastian murmured, working magic. It was probably a simple disguise spell, making the air around them fuzzy. Any mage would know what it was, but people who didn’t know magic tended to assume their vision was faulty. It was pretty funny, actually. Very useful, as well.
“I can smell cigarettes,” the basajaun said. “They are very pungent. Just…” He pointed up the way. “There is an alley not far. I would guess they are there?”
“Great,” Nessa whispered. “We need to get into position to sneak up behind them. I’ll take one of the instigators and Sebastian will take the other. Basajaun—”
“Call me Phil, but do not tell anyone you call me Phil. The basajaunak will not understand. But if I am going to look more human, I should have a human name.”
She hesitated, sliding him a glance. “Why not. Phil, you take the three who hopped on board. Do not kill them.” She speared him with a look. “What did I just say?”
“Maim only,” he supplied.
“Maim, yes. Not mangle. You can pick them all up and head toward the woods for all I care, but whatever you do, don’t let anyone see you. Got it? Stealth mission.”
“Yes. I have it.” He paused as they set a new course. “One question, however. What if I do accidentally kill them?”
She sighed and went over the rules one more time.
Soon even she could smell the cigarette smoke from the end of the alley, deep from within the shadows. The butt at the end of one glowed as someone took a drag.
“Gotcha, you bastards,” Sebastian whispered.
He and Nessa immediately drifted into the shadows, and the magic and the darkness made it nearly impossible for them to be seen. Phil disappeared behind the wall of a building, and a moment later he was on the roof, staying low and somehow as silent as the grave.
Closing the distance now, Nessa eased her knife out of the leg holster, thinking of how vicious she wanted to go.
Raucous laughter drifted toward them from the group. A metallic glimmer caught her eye, moonlight reflecting on a flask.
“Shouldn’t be long now, boys,” someone said, and someone else peered around the corner.
“I’m gonna smash that creep,” another intoned, shifting his weight from side to side.
She steadied her breath and focused on her movement and footwork. Easy did it. Soft feet. Smooth walking. Shadows slid over her body. She kept her knife low, ensuring it caught no light or attention.
The basajaun made it to the end before she did, crouching low so people in the street hopefully couldn’t see him. He peered over the edge of the roof, watching for her signal.
It had been such a bad idea to invite him. Such a bad idea. Hopefully he didn’t freak out and raise the dead with his snarls. He was capable of it.
Ten feet away now, Sebastian keeping pace with her. Five, hearing them talking nonsense but letting it flow around her, not sinking in. Her breath was steady. Her hand ready.
She looked up at the basajaun, then nodded.
Her foot scuffed the ground as she darted forward. She grabbed the hair of her mark and wrenched his head back. With a smooth motion, she dragged her knife across his throat, knowing exactly how hard to press to keep it nonlethal. With a shifter, it was a tiny bit harder than a mage, since they could heal so quickly.
Sebastian sprinted across the alley and grabbed the other ringleader—he was not good with weapons, but he quickly took him to the ground with magic. His hand muted the shifter’s surprised shouts as the basajaun jumped from the roof and landed amongst his three marks. He backhanded one, slapped another, and conked the third on the head with his fist.
They all stood dead still, their eyes rounded, their bodies in freeze mode. The basajaun scooped them all up like they were sticks and just about sprinted across the street.
“Wait,” Nessa said, having to put her body weight on her mark to keep him from writhing all over the place. She pushed both hands down on his mouth. “You have to tell them never to bother any members of Ivy House again,” she told the basajaun. “That’s the really important part. We all stick together, so if they mess—”