Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“That’s kind of sweet,” said Delilah, carefully placing vials onto a rack. “I wouldn’t have thought he did ‘sweet.’ Or that you’d know how to handle it, Miss Emotionally Awkward.”
Wynter shifted in her seat. “I’m not that bad.”
Delilah snorted. “You totally are. Though not as bad as Anabel.”
The blonde’s brow pinched. “Do you not think you’ve taken enough pot shots at me this morning? What do you even get out of it? Huh? What does that do for you?”
“Jeez, you always take it so personally,” said Delilah. “Seriously, what is up with that?”
“God, I have never met anyone who’s as insensitive as you.”
Delilah flapped a dismissive hand. “Oh, go cuddle a teddy bear and write in your journal or something.”
“See? Insensitive.”
“Compassion is for the weak.”
Anabel’s upper lip curled. “Let me guess, your ancestor Annis told you that?”
“Why do you have to say her name with scorn?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because she ate people.”
“We all have bad habits.”
Wynter lifted a hand. “Okay, let’s just end the conversation right there.” Because it would only go on a downward spiral, and then there’d be hair pulling and stuff.
Most witches would probably be horrified to be a descendant of the Black Annis, who was the witch version of the bogeyman. Not Delilah. She saw only the good in Annis’s “teachings.” So it was pretty unnerving that Delilah often went into meditative states where she had little talks with the old crone.
With a cute little humph, Anabel took a seat at the table. “Back to the consort thing . . . if you’re happy about it, Wyn, then I’m happy for you. But Ishtar won’t be. She is gonna freak.”
Wynter couldn’t help but smile. “I know.”
Ishtar was not only one of the seven Ancients, she was someone who’d shared a bed with Cain once upon a time. She was pretty proprietary over him and had repeatedly tried edging Wynter out of the picture. The woman was not at all pleased that she’d failed, and Wynter wasn’t so certain that Ishtar had thrown in the towel just yet. Time would tell.
“She’ll be bummed when she hears that Saul didn’t manage to kill you,” said Delilah. “Speaking of Saul . . . I doubt he’s left Devil’s Cradle. If he has, he’ll be lurking on the outskirts.”
Xavier nodded, sobering. “If he truly has nothing but vengeance on the brain, he won’t go far.”
“No, he won’t,” agreed Wynter. “Nor will he quit trying to end me and Cain. He might just succeed with me. Aeons are exceedingly powerful—you all saw that for yourselves when they battled the Ancients.”
“You came back from death after you accidentally got whacked by Ishtar’s power,” Delilah pointed out.
“But she didn’t put all her strength behind that strike. If she had, I might well have died for real.”
“But you might not have,” Anabel cut in. “It could be that the Aeons, for all their power, have no way of permanently destroying a revenant. Let’s not make morbid assumptions.”
Wynter blinked. “This is coming from the woman who insists that death hovers over us at practically every moment? Really?”
Anabel pressed her lips together. “I’m simply saying that there’s no need to borrow trouble. We have plenty of that already.”
“The girl has a point,” said Hattie, putting a hand on her hip. “At least it will distract Cain from trying to pry your secrets out of you, Wynter. I personally don’t think it’s necessary for either of you to confess everything. People say it’s important to spill all your secrets to your partners, but some things are better left unsaid. Take my husbands, for example. If I’d told the second, third, fourth, and fifth how the ones before them died, they wouldn’t have given me a chance.”
Delilah threw the black widow a look. “And then maybe they’d be alive right now.”
Hattie sniffed. “Doubtful. They were all self-destructive pricks. A little like Saul, in that respect. Taking into account the things that Cain told us, the Aeon won’t be easy to locate.”
He’d probably be no easier to take down when he was located, which was a major issue. “Cain’s sending out search parties to track the bastard.”
“And what are we going to do?” asked Xavier.
“We’re going to scry for him, just as he did for me,” said Wynter. “And if we find him, we’re gonna butcher his ass.”
Xavier smiled. “Works for me.”
*
Having relayed the finer details of last night’s incident to the six Ancients sitting around his dining table, Cain sat back in his chair. So far, the search parties had failed to locate Saul—even the lycans, whose sense of smell was excellent. It seemed that Saul’s trail would abruptly disappear here and there, suggesting that he was traveling from spot to spot using the element of air.
The search parties would continue to hunt him, though. If nothing else, the pressure of being pursued would hopefully distract him from attempting another attack on Wynter.