Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Possibly.”
“I’m so glad. Please stop talking.”
“I love you, Catalina.”
I growled at him.
“You are so smart and beautiful.”
“Alessandro, shut up.”
“Your wings are breathtaking.”
I would punch him.
“You cook like a goddess . . .”
“Damn it!” I threw the marker on the floor.
He grabbed my hands and pulled me upright. His eyes were like molten amber. “Every time I wake up next to you, I feel like the luckiest man ever born. I can’t believe you chose me. You have all of me forever. In this whole world, there is no one like you.”
He touched my cheek with his fingertips and kissed me. There was so much tenderness in that kiss. It was made of love and hope, and it broke me. I had been trying to keep it together for so long, but no defense could’ve stood up to that.
He wiped the tears from my face with his fingers and touched my forehead with his. We stood an inch apart, the glyphs still drying on his skin.
“Don’t die tomorrow,” I told him.
“I won’t. I promise.”
Chapter 18
The northwest corner of the wall widened into a patio originally designed to offer a scenic backdrop for wedding photos. The patio was crowned by a pavilion we’d dubbed the Wedding Cake because it was ornate and ridiculous. After buying the Compound, the Wedding Cake was converted into an observation post complete with reinforced walls and massive bulletproof windows. We still called it the Wedding Cake, despite all the renovations and the fact that its charming table and chairs had been replaced by a utilitarian counter offering a variety of cameras and binoculars.
I stood inside it now, drinking coffee from a white mug with golden lettering on it. The letters said, “You got this.”
Dawn was breaking outside the ballistic window, the sky slowly flooding with red and orange. It promised to be one of those unforgettable Texas sunrises.
On the patio behind us, shielded from view by the Wedding Cake, Alessandro was drawing a complex arcane circle. I had a clear view of him through the open doors of the pavilion. He was dressed in black and my null blade rested in the sheath on his back.
Leon whistled a spaghetti western tune next to me.
“Shouldn’t you be in your tower?”
“All in good time, ma’am. I’m taking in the sights and getting the lay of the land. A man only gets one Alamo in his lifetime. If he’s lucky. I’m committing it to memory.”
He was wearing one of the Scorpion ballistic vests and a helmet, just like me. Running in that getup to the tower wouldn’t be the easiest thing in the world.
We had split our forces. We had two gates to protect, this one and the one in the south that faced Grandma Frida’s motor pool. Arkan would be a fool not to attack from both points, so Grandma Frida, half of our guards, Runa, and Grandma Victoria took the south side. After some discussion, we all collectively decided that Arabella would join them. Nobody wanted to say it out loud, but both grandmothers had celebrated their seventieth birthdays some time ago, and while their magic was as strong as ever, everyone felt better knowing my sister guarded their backs.
Leon, Alessandro, Cornelius, and I took the north gate. Konstantin insisted on joining us, because, according to him, when Arkan finally knocked on our front door, he wanted to open it and say hello. We hadn’t seen him since last night. We may have seen him and didn’t know it was him, or he may have left. In any case, I couldn’t spare any time to worry about it. Babysitting Russian princes was not on the agenda for today.
Mom positioned herself in her crow’s nest at the main house. From there she had an opportunity to support both sides. Lilian went with her. My mother and Alessandro’s seemed to have found some common ground. Lilian and I hadn’t had an opportunity to really sit and talk, but she told me that her son was lucky, so I hoped it would go well.
Linus insisted on getting his mech out. We’d stored one of them in Grandma Frida’s motor pool since we moved in. None of us could pilot it, and he shouldn’t have piloted it either, not in his current condition. But we couldn’t ignore the possibility that once the fights at the gates broke out, Arkan could sneak some of his people over the walls in random spots. The mech was light and mobile, designed for rapid response, and Linus was hell-bent on using it.
The distant rumble of artillery fire rolled through the morning air. Too quiet to have come from the south gate.
“The PAC is at Connor’s house asking to borrow a cup of sugar,” Bern said into my earpiece.
“Shouldn’t you be drawing?” Leon asked me, mimicking my earlier tone exactly.