Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
I know the scent of this place. Oh, it’s him. Of course it’s him.
Such an odd thought, one her wounded mind couldn’t hold.
Her cat wanted to bat its paws at the wild currents of silver, but it had to cling on, knew that to let go would be the end of everything. It would fall into the gray horizon. It would … die. The knowledge came not from the primal half of her nature but from the half that was human. It understood death, had seen far too much of it before her body fell under an unseen and vicious blow.
No.
A repudiation of death.
She had promises to uphold, that she knew, though she could no longer see the full shape of those promises, her mind dull and heavy as her body directed all its energy into keeping her alive.
I’m hurt bad.
A sluggish realization.
Fighting not to fall into the nothingness, she clung on to the electric space, allowed it to protect her, and as she did so, she saw flashes of a dingy room with dull-colored carpet, the deep blue waters of an ocean crashing against rocks, the elegant face of an older woman who had the eyes of an alpha, a pair of powerful hands with squared-off nails and cool white skin.
She stared at those hands, saw them flex inward, squeeze.
The image flashed out of existence, to be replaced by a glimpse of bodies in the snow. She jerked away from that, and to another face. This one of a young man with eyes the haunting shade of silvery morning light—the tilt at the corners gave him an almost feline appearance. Her cat liked that.
He was pretty. But kind. So kind that she felt it in her heart.
His black hair was straight and cut with neat precision. It suited his square jawline and high cheekbones. His expression was gentle and familiar, though she didn’t know him. She was certain of that.
Those hands once more, now sheathed in black gloves.
They flexed again, this time to pull a thin wire taut in between.
This one, he wasn’t kind. He was dangerous. A predator.
She should’ve been afraid. She wasn’t.
Now the image in front of her was of a small room with walls of palest green, a plant in the corner, and a desk set up by the window. On it lay a datapad that held equations from a child’s textbook.
Everything collapsed, highways of crystalline flowers exploding in her brain, their colors infinite. Beautiful. So beautiful. Her mind began to fade at the edges again, the flowers blurring, but this time, she knew the fading wasn’t death. It couldn’t be. Because when the cat released its claws and pounced back into the mind that was her own, it brought with it a shimmering necklace of crystalline lightning awash with colors beyond colors.
Wrapping that lightning around itself, her cat curled up inside her, ready to heal.
The lightning crackled a pure silver as it created a shield around her brain. She sighed as she fell into the dark. She knew he’d protect her. The man with death in his hands. He’d keep her safe.
Chapter 9
I’ve met someone, Farah. Someone wonderful.
—Soleil Bijoux Garcia to Farah Khan (5 February 2082)
EXHAUSTION HIT IVAN with the force of a tidal wave ten minutes after he left the site. And it wasn’t the bodily exhaustion of hard work; if he didn’t know better, he’d have said he’d maxed out his psychic power, was on the verge of a dangerous mental flatline. Except that made no sense—even the jolt he’d given Lei had used only the most minor percentage of his psychic reserves.
His state got so bad that he had to pull off the night-cloaked highway and intake three nutrient bars before he could function again. Even then, he knew he was unsafe to drive. He was as likely to crash the vehicle and kill himself as make it to the hospital.
Ivan Mercant did not nap.
He didn’t today, either. This sleep was demanding and too deep, left him feeling leaden and drugged when he finally clawed his way out of it some five hours later, the world yet dark. He was starving, hungrier than he could remember being since he was a child.
He ate and drank so many nutrients in the ensuing ten minutes that he cleaned out his entire stock and had to stop at an automated convenience store to pick up more. It was as if he were a bottomless void. The food just vanished into him and it wasn’t until a half hour later that he felt in any way stable.
He’d already called the hospital to check on Lei. They couldn’t locate her. Too many wounded coming in, he was told. Too much confusion. No matter. He’d find her when he got there.
He arrived twenty minutes later, walked straight into the patient area. It was amazing, the places you could get into if you simply acted like you belonged. No one asked him what he was doing there, and he was able to check every single room, put his eyes on every single patient.