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)
Anabel’s face flushed. “No, they’re for . . . something else. Now stop quizzing me so we can get moving. The less time we spend on the surface, the better.” She narrowed her gaze at a passing couple who eyed Wynter a little too boldly. “You’d think that the staring would have stopped by now.”
Not necessarily. It wasn’t every day that people learned that they might live among a revenant.
On first arriving at Devil’s Cradle, Wynter had done a good job of posing as a standard witch, so the residents hadn’t suspected that she was anything more. Not until the recent battle when Kali’s mark had surfaced on her face—a metallic blue snake that decorated one side of her face like an “S,” its mouth wide open near the corner of her eye. The deity usually kept it concealed.
“They can’t quite decide if I’m really a revenant or if I used a glamor spell to fake Kali’s mark in the hope of fooling the Aeons into believing I’m Favored by a deity,” said Wynter.
Their skepticism was understandable. After all, revenants weren’t really people. They weren’t truly alive. They existed, they sought revenge, and they fed on blood and flesh to sustain the monster they hosted. But they didn’t age or have a heartbeat. Nor did they stick around after avenging their deaths—it was only a need for vengeance that tethered them to this realm. They generally only lasted days before returning to a natural state of death.
Wynter’s undead soul, however, hadn’t returned to the netherworld after her murder was avenged. Her body hadn’t decayed, her appetite never ran to blood and flesh, her heart beat strong and steady in her chest, and she aged like a regular person. Also, she couldn’t seem to permanently die. But that didn’t mean that she one day wouldn’t.
“They can be confused about it all without staring at you,” said Anabel.
“Forget about them, they’re not important.”
“Of course they’re not. But they’re still annoying.” Anabel adjusted the position of the basket she was holding. “I’ll meet you at the checkout counter. Be fast.”
They parted ways and headed down separate aisles. Humming, Wynter chucked one item after another into her basket, mentally crossing them off the list. She also added a few things for herself.
Reaching the wall of built-in coolers, she pulled open the refrigerator door. Cold air danced over her skin. She grabbed an energy drink and then closed the door.
Her heart jumped as she saw a man’s reflection in the glass, smirking. Saul. She spun . . . but there was no one there. Or it didn’t seem as though there was. She swiped out her arm but connected with nothing but air.
Hearing him laugh, she whirled back to face the refrigerator just in time to see his chuckling reflection fade away.
What in the rickety fuck?
Again, she slashed her arm through the air. Again, her fingers touched nothing solid.
He was definitely not physically here. Kali would have warned her if he was, just as She did when any threats were nearby—the deity was helpful that way. Wynter hadn’t merely imagined seeing Saul’s reflection, though. Only . . . it couldn’t have truly been a reflection if he wasn’t actually there, could it?
Not knowing what to make of the weird little incident, she made a mental note to discuss it with Cain. He’d surely have answers.
Wynter quickly grabbed the last few items on her list and then made a beeline for the checkout counter, where Anabel waited. Not wanting to spook the already on-edge blonde, Wynter said nothing about the Saul thingy as they bagged and paid for their stuff.
“Everything okay?” Anabel asked her as they walked to the exit. “You seem . . . tense.”
“I’m fine.” Wynter took two steps outside. An otherworldly breeze raced over her, humming with warning. Before she had a moment to react, a mini whirlwind built around her. A whirlwind in which Saul stood. Fuck it all.
A net of fire engulfed her before she had the chance to strike—a net so weirdly heavy it knocked her on her ass. Her insides rolled, the wind died down, and she realized that she was no longer at the plaza. No, she was in the woods on the outskirts of the town. She was also still caught up in the net, and freaking Saul still stood in front of her.
The net was uncomfortably hot and tight. Worse, it seemed to be stopping her from using her magick, because her efforts to destroy it were having zero effect.
Wonderful. Just wonderful.
Wynter’s monster slunk to the surface, not a fan of the Aeons at the best of times. Right now, it was eager to take control and end the bastard in front of them. It wasn’t alone in that.
Eying the flickering ball of red power in Saul’s hand, Wynter urged her monster to wait. She was difficult to kill, true, but his kind might just manage to accomplish it.