Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“You’re late,” she admonished, red flickering inside her irises.
“And you’re Siobhan, Goddess of Many Futures?”
“I am.” She turned on her high heels and glanced over her shoulder, motioning Neeka to follow. “Come. You’ll understand when we reach our destination.”
As the goddess glided forward, eerily graceful, Neeka took note of her surroundings. Mother-of-pearl, everywhere. On the walls, the columns, and the floor. A galaxy of stars stretched overhead. The temple from the vision!
Fangs sharpening, claws elongating, she rushed after Siobhan—Um. The goddess stopped as a second female emerged from a thicker haze of smoke. Neeka swallowed a groan. Oh, yeah. She’d walked into a trap. But she didn’t backtrack. She was here, there was hope.
“Hello, Unwanted,” her mother said.
“How did you get in here?” she demanded. “The mirror is the only way in, and it’s guarded twenty-four seven by Hades.”
“Wrong. And right.” Her mother remained smug and irritating. “There are two mirrors. Hades has one, but someone else has the other...”
“And who is this someone else?” Azar? Had he not fired the treacherous Grenwich? Or was the mystery person paying her fee now?
“That isn’t information you’ll receive at this time.” Siobhan motioned to Grenwich. “Proceed. I don’t like having visitors. The sooner you finish the better.”
“I’m already done, and I’ve never been happier.” Grenwich unfolded a white cloth she held, revealing the final bones. “You’ve lost, Neeka, your suffering assured.”
Neeka winced. The word daggers cut deep, leaving gaping wounds. Rather than coddle the bleeders, as she’d done in the past, she strapped on big girl panties and forged ahead. “You should have run while you had the chance.”
A smiling Lore materialized at Grenwich’s side. “Why run when I’m here to take out the trash?”
Dang. Neeka should have known they’d partnered up. Like called to like. “Only two against me? Or are you more than an unwitting hostess?” she demanded of Siobhan.
Unperturbed, the goddess grinned with cold evil. “Tell Hades I’m coming for him.”
Okay. “Two possibly three against me.” Neeka met Lore’s gaze. “And you expect to win?”
“Oh, there are more with us.”
The veil of smoke thinned behind Lore and Grenwich, revealing a cluster of hybrids. They possessed the head of a wolf, the body of an ultramuscular human, with scales instead of skin, and two sets of arms. There were ten in total, and they stared at Neeka as if they could already taste her marrow. Her stomach flip-flopped.
“Meet my first attempt at motherhood.” Lore flipped her hair over one shoulder. “They are unable to embody, but the same will not be true of my next brood.” Smiling, she smoothed a hand over her flat stomach. “They are ready to secure their new kingdom for their baby brothers.”
Neeka exaggerated a gag. “Yes, I see the resemblance.” How to handle this? Like Hades at the crossroads, she must make a choice.
Did some part of Rathbone still love his ex? Would he resent Neeka if she harmed the goddess?
Was this the damage to her life? And what about her mother? Could she physically harm the woman who’d birthed her?
Grenwich noticed her indecision. “Walk away.”
“I have no wish to kill you now,” Lore said. “You have more to do for me.”
For her? Neeka cut off a rebuke. “All right. I’ll go,” she offered pleasantly. “After.” As cold as ice, she struck, raking her claws across Lore’s trachea, then her mother’s.
As the two toppled, Neeka snatched the cloth containing the bones and jetted off. The stable members were too concerned for their mother to compute what had transpired.
Her wings flapped overtime, increasing Neeka’s speed. She intended to dive into the sky. Hopefully, she’d fly out of the glass and land with ease in the other world. If not, well, she’d figured it out.
Halfway there the hybrids caught up with her. Like a whirling, screeching tornado, they trapped her in a tangle of chaos and pain. Because they were spirits, the same as Lore, they swiped their claws through her body, cutting her spirit, making her feel as if she’d been dipped in acid and rolled in salt. Panic attempted to derail her defenses as she struggled to protect herself.
Weakness invaded her limbs, and she collapsed to the ground, cracking the mother-of-pearl and dropping the cloth. A gnarled claw-tipped foot kicked it from her sight line. No! As she continued to fight the interminable stream of blows, she crawled forward and patted the floor. Thankfully, her attackers paused periodically to lick bits and pieces of her spirit from their talons. But the anguish! The helplessness.
Through sheer will alone, she continued her search. No sign of the bones. Come on, come on...
The monsters started up again, delivering injury after injury. Her vision hazed. When she couldn’t crawl any longer, she scooted, wriggled, and slithered—and fell right out of the mirror. She slammed into Rathbone and Hades and rolled down the dais steps.