Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I’d like you to join us,” I reply. She somehow knows I’m here for a serious talk, not to hang. Nodding, she grabs a third beer for herself.
We step onto the deck from the kitchen. It runs the entire length of their house, which sits high on a bluff over the ocean. Carrick is at a table with a large umbrella unfurled to shield him from the sun. He’s working on a crossword puzzle and looks the epitome of domestication.
Lifting his head, he notes the beers and pushes the paper to the side. I grab the seat to his left, and Finley moves behind him to take the one on his right. She reaches her hand out and glides it along his shoulders in a simple touch of affection. I imagine if I did that to Zora she might snarl and hiss at me. The only time she accepts nonsexual touching is right after I fuck her brains out and they’re too scrambled to object. Then she’s all cuddly and soft and I like her that way very much.
I like her snarling and hissing too.
“What’s up?” Carrick asks, twisting the cap off his bottle, then pulling Finley’s beer from her hand to do the same. He hands it back to her with a smile.
I open mine and take a sip, looking out over the ocean. I have to squint against the brightness. “Been in Faere the past few days. There are tears opening between it and the Underworld. I’ve been assigned to ensure the veil doesn’t completely breach.”
Finley wrinkles her nose. “I hate Faere.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” I say, lifting my bottle in acknowledgment.
“It’s all too bright and colorful. So fake.”
“Yeah, well… add to that I have to put up with Deandra, and it’s not been a pleasant experience.”
“Just bang her a few times, and she’ll leave you alone,” Carrick says.
Finley gasps and smacks him on the arm before turning her attention to me. “Don’t you dare bang Deandra.”
I frown at the vehemence in her voice. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
She lasers her eyes onto me. “Good.”
And whoa, wait… does she know something’s going on with me and Zora? Sure, she knew that we’d had sex a few times, back when she was still mortal, but I’ve never said a word since then. The few times I’ve happened to be around Carrick, Finley, and Zora, I pretty much ignore her because I know she doesn’t want anyone to know about us.
Carrick’s head twists left and right, looking between us. “What’s with the serious faces?”
“Nothing,” Finley says. “It’s just… Deandra’s bad news.”
“Yes,” Carrick drawls. “We’re all aware of how you feel about Deandra but let’s not forget she did help us save the world.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like her,” Finley says sullenly.
Carrick sighs, reaching over to squeeze his wife’s knee. “No, I suppose you don’t.” He then looks at me. “What’s with the dire look?”
“Not dire,” I correct, taking another sip of beer. “More… antsy.”
Carrick and Finley stare at me, waiting. A lot of things are stressing me out. The most immediate—being in Faere these last few days, fending off Deandra’s advances. I didn’t tell her Zora would kill her because I know Zora didn’t really want me to. She wants to keep this thing between us secret.
And then there’s Zora. I’ve missed her like crazy but I’ve refused to use the key to go to her or visit her at her home. She has her stuff to do and as far as I know she’s off campaigning and trading favors with the gods to get them to lift Amell’s punishment.
Then… there’s Lucien.
That’s where I need to start.
“Amell has agreed to help us try to get Lucien back.” Carrick sits up straighter, and Finley claps her hand over her mouth in shock. “He’s not sure he can do anything, but there’s a tome of spells Kymaris created that might have strong enough magic to do it. It’s called the Book of Shadows.”
“Kymaris created the Crimson River,” Finley muses. “She would know if there was a way to rescue a soul from it.”
“Maybe,” I say, taking another long pull from my beer. “Unfortunately, the book has been stolen.”
“Fuck,” Carrick mutters.
I tell them about Amell loaning it to Thalia and that she had it secured in a vault, but that it’s missing.
“What’s Amell going to do?” Finley asks.
I shrug. “Not much he can do being stuck in the Underworld. But Thalia’s got her brother-in-law, Kieran, on the hunt.”
“So until the book is located, we’re right where we started… no chance of getting Lucien back,” Carrick says.
“We’re getting him back.” I sound so assured, both Carrick and Finley frown at me in disbelief. “Think about it. The gods refuse to do it but they didn’t prohibit us from trying. There’s a way to do it, but they want us to figure it out.”