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)
Rathbone maintained the lead, but he did dial down his speed. He angled his face toward hers, saying, “Tell me about the rocks.”
She didn’t mean to, but she grabbed his hand and linked their fingers, craving contact. Needing it. Usually, she faced her problems alone. How nice to have a partner for once. “They’re grimlings, and I dug them from your garden.” Oh! Finally! An answer rather than a question. The information ran from the falling blanket, escaping her mouth. “I sensed them and knew they would aid our escape. And they didn’t attack you because your blood is their blood.”
She scanned ahead, hoping to cobble together a clear, easily explainable plan for him to follow once she checked out. Trees abounded in every direction, their limbs heavy with beautiful purple flowers. Poisonous? Lush, dewy bushes lined a dirt path. The very path they currently traversed. But she spotted no foot or paw prints to indicate a safer route. No insects flew about, either. A definite sign of trouble.
Should she and Rathbone veer? But where? When? Think, think!
Another pang erupted in her temples, light beginning to wane. “Listen, Red. I’m about to pass out.”
“Are you injured?” he demanded, slamming to a halt. She must not have answered swiftly enough, because he maneuvered her body this way and that, on the hunt for wounds.
“Mental overload,” she explained, clasping his wrists. “My mind is gonna reset, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Don’t take it personally, but I might not remember you when I awaken. And don’t think my little nap means you’re a contestant in Mr. Neeka’s Consort or anything. I’m not your typical harpy, and this won’t be a typical rest.”
His lids slitted. “You will remember me, and I’ll hear no more on the subject.” He swooped her off her feet and into his muscular arms, clutching her against his chest and stalking forward.
Oh, wow, this she liked more than the hand hold.
Neeka rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, saying, “If I attack you, don’t strike back. Use my safe phrase—You’re right, and I’m wrong. It’s the only way to calm me down.”
“Oracle—”
“No. Just listen. When you come across the starways—” Starways? Oh! Oh! The information she’d searched for earlier suddenly dawned. Doors into other worlds, and the only way home. “Whatever you do, avoid the red ones. And the pink, orange, yellow, blue, and green ones.”
Teeth clenched, he said, “Perhaps you should tell me an acceptable color.”
Another pang hit, far stronger than the others. More light extinguished, and she cringed, certain only seconds remained. “This next part involves Lore’s bone. Do not, under any circumstances—” Total darkness descended, and Neeka sagged into unconsciousness.
11
“Do not what?” Rathbone demanded. Of course, no response was forthcoming. Neeka was too busy resting peacefully in his arms.
Anger burned inside him, fueled by coals of desire he hadn’t yet quashed. He strode on, unsure where to go and unable to concentrate on anything other than the female in his arms, who’d assured him there’d be no opposition.
Forget the bone for a minute. Something had changed between him and the oracle the moment she’d stuck her head through that hole in the wall and smiled at him.
No, the change had come before his imprisonment, when they’d traversed the streets of Nova and she’d climbed on him, broadcasting lust and vulnerability. A combination he intended to experience again. Soon.
Or not. He bit off a curse. Long-term loyalty mattered more than short-term pleasure.
Focus. They were trapped in an unfamiliar world more advanced than most. Despite Neeka assurance, he sensed aggression all around. He hadn’t yet recharged, couldn’t shift or flash, and he saw no evidence of a starway. Not that he knew what to look for. Any second, the oracle could awaken without her memory, complicating an already complicated situation.
Even with the grimlings and his newfound arsenal, Rathbone felt ill prepared for the task ahead. Getting home with a bone and a still breathing Neeka.
A disruption in the atmosphere sent a tingle across his nerve endings. He tensed, gazing left, right.
In a rush of motion, the forest came alive. Vines shot from every direction. Some stabbed pointed tips at him. Others endeavored to eat him in a series of gobbles, their snapping, thorn-filled mouths opening and closing. Flowers spit glowing spores, causing his next breath to scorch his lungs.
Dizziness overtook him. No opposition, carrot?
With the help of the mátia, Rathbone dodged each attack and dashed forward. Neeka remained cradled against his chest, her sleep undisturbed.
Up ahead, the land split in two, a crack widening as it spread across the dirt, heading straight for him. He jumped, clearing the fissure. Landing jarred him, but his gaze caught on a startling sight. A starway, no doubt. What Rathbone referred to as a threshold. A door between worlds or dimensions.