Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Surprise rippled across many faces, including that of Esther.
“Ah, you didn’t. Well, let me tell you … there’s no memory-wipe process. They’re paralyzed and then thrown over the falls.”
“That is a lie,” Esther insisted.
“No, it’s not. The banished die.”
“If that were true, you would not be alive.”
“If it wasn’t true, I’d have no memories. But I do. I live because I managed to escape Wagner.” And then … well, she was pretty sure her monster ate most if not all of him, but that was a whole other story. That same monster was currently watching Esther closely, entertaining the many—and very creative—ways it would make her suffer.
Esther shook her head, dismissing Wynter’s claims with ease, and said, “I have no time for this. I do not know what you did with that death magick of yours, but you need to come home and reverse whatever spell you cast.”
Wynter pursed her lips. “Yeah, nah.”
“You will return to Aeon, and you will do so immediately.”
“It’s like you’ve forgotten that you’re not my Priestess anymore. Weird.”
“Wynter—”
“The only way I’m leaving Devil’s Cradle is if I have no choice but to go. And the only person who can force me to leave is Cain.” Feeling like a cold fist was wrapped tight around her heart, Wynter met his dark, currently unreadable gaze. “Do you want me gone?” If he said yes, he was so dead.
His brow inched up, imperious. “You and I have a deal, remember?” He cut his eyes back to Esther. “Wynter stays here.”
And the cold fist released her heart.
The Priestess gritted her teeth. “The Aeons—”
“—are not who you think they are,” Cain told her. “Notice that they didn’t come here themselves. This is a dangerous place. You are their people. But they insisted on you facing the danger, not them.”
“This is unhallowed ground,” said Esther. “They cannot step foot on it.”
Cain felt his lips twitch. “Is that what they told you?”
Azazel chuckled. “Such story spinners.”
Cain dismissively flicked a hand and half-turned away from the coven. “Return to your rotting home. Tell the Aeons that Wynter will remain here.”
“You cannot possibly be willing to risk their wrath over this,” Esther insisted. “She is a mere witch. No one important. Her magick is impure, twisted—”
“More powerful than yours, which I suspect is your real problem with Wynter,” Cain finished.
Esther’s mouth snapped shut. For a moment. “I implore you to reconsider—”
“No imploring,” said Azazel. “This is tedious enough as it is.”
Oh, Wynter couldn’t have agreed more.
When the Priestess again went to protest, Cain clipped, “No, we are done. You will leave, or you will die. The choice is yours.”
Esther clenched her fists. “She will ruin your town. She—”
“Leave, or die,” Cain ordered.
Wynter crossed her metaphorical fingers that the bitch would be dumb enough to push him. But, her cheeks flushing, Esther pivoted on her heel and stalked away with her coven members in tow. No such luck.
The crowd who’d gathered smirked and poked at the witches, spouting taunting comments like, “That’s it, run along.”
Cain glanced from her to Azazel and then tipped his chin toward the manor. In silence, they headed inside.
Back in the foyer, Azazel turned to her. “Your old coven is a joke.”
“You won’t get an argument from me,” said Wynter.
Looking deep into those quicksilver eyes, Cain tilted his head as he asked, “Was what Esther claimed about the teenagers true?”
Not even a flicker of emotion crossed Wynter’s face. “That they accidentally took my life? No. That I took theirs? Yes. I did mention that they were executed.”
“You didn’t say that you were the one who performed the executions,” Cain pointed out. It made him wonder what else she’d left out of her story.
“People always give me weird looks when they learn what happened to the boys,” said Wynter. “And hey, I get it. But I don’t like it. Surely there’s stuff that you two haven’t publicly shared because you know others will react in a way you won’t like.”
Unease tingled its way down Cain’s spine. “What makes you think that?”
“You and the Aeons are all super secretive,” she reminded him. “You let people draw their own conclusions, and you don’t bother to confirm or deny any theories. It stands to reason that you simply feel some things are better left unsaid. And no, I’m not asking for clarification on that.” She paused. “I would, however, like to know if you have any idea of who the Aeons might send next.”
What she wanted was to change the subject, Cain thought. And he had to admit she was smooth at easing a conversation away from one topic and onto another. He wouldn’t call her on it now, though. Not when he sensed that the scene outside hadn’t been quite as easy for her as she’d like him to believe.
“I doubt they’ll insist your old coven returns,” he said. “But someone will come. Keepers, perhaps. The Aeons will only come if it’s a last resort.”