Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“So why come to us?” I ask him, and he looks over his shoulder.
“That york that has been following you is closer now, and I would prefer you to reach your sister before it kills you all.” He claps his hands. “Up now. I would suggest you run.”
I slide my shoes back on and do just that.
Chapter Twenty-Three
TALIA
“Someone is coming,” Cinitta says as she steps out the front door.
I get up and follow her. “Who?”
“Your sisters,” she replies, unsure. “With the wolves,” she adds.
“We should welcome them.” I smile as I head to the barrier to greet them. My sisters don’t even bother smiling when they see me.
That’s not very nice.
As they approach, Tatiana tentatively extends her hand out and touches the barrier. It shakes under her hand but doesn’t move.
“Are you going to let us in?” she asks.
“Why are you here?” I ask. “This is the witches’ quadrant.”
“You opened a portal,” one of the wolves yells, and I can hear the anger in her voice.
“I did no such thing.” I smile.
Tatiana glares at me.
“You did, and you let something into our world.”
“Like?” I ask with a lift of my brow.
“A york.”
“Oh, really?” I look back to Cinitta. “Do you know what a york is, Cinitta?” She shakes her head. “It’s something that can take the form of someone you loved and lost in order to suck your soul from your body and kill you.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Cinitta replies.
“It’s killed half our people,” Tatiana adds.
“Your people?” I tilt my head. “Are we not your people anymore?”
“You know you are.”
“But you said… your people.”
“The vampires killed all Max’s people.” My heart skips a beat at the sound of his name. I shake my head and step back. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Talia. That you had to go through that loss.” Her hand pushes against the barrier, and I feel it in me as she does it. “Let us in.” I study her for a moment and then drop the barrier. Everyone walks in, and I put it back up when the last of them is through. She steps close to me, and I smile at her, leaning in near her ear.
“It would be best if you didn’t speak his name to me again.”
She looks at me as if I am a stranger standing in front of her and not her sister, and she is partly correct. I’m not the pushover I once was—I’m a new woman, and I enjoy who I have become.
Max may have had a small part in it, and while my sister had a larger part, I still don’t ever want to hear her say his name.
It hurts.
And I prefer not to deal with the pain.
I enjoy living here again, though it’s not the same as it was. The house is different now. It has real food that we didn’t have to go to a market to buy. The witches don’t have to fear for their lives because I plan to protect them, as I have been doing. I always thought we would grow old here, but now I think that will only be me. I plan never to leave this place. It is where I see the rest of my life. And whether my sisters want to be a part of that will be completely up to them. I won’t force them to stay, but I also won’t force them to leave because, at one stage, this was home to all of us.
Tatiana looks around, confused, as the witches gather behind me. They’re all in a stance that speaks volumes of who they are here to protect. Her eyes scan each of them before they land back on me. She wants to say something but bites her tongue, not voicing it. She is probably the second-most powerful witch here—after me, that is—and most of these witches know it.
“Do you think of me as a threat, sister?” she asks.
I smile and lean in to touch her, and John growls. At his reaction, the witches raise a spell into the air.
Tatiana leans back and touches John’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she assures him before she looks back at me. “You would have them harm me? You would allow it?” she asks.
“No, of course not. I let you in, did I not?”
“You did, but I feel it comes with consequences.” She pauses, a frown marring her features. “Have you spoken to Death?”
“Grim. And no, I have not.”
“You loved him,” she pushes, and I bite my cheek.
“I loved him, yes. And I loved someone else. So what is your point?”
“He may know how to help us.”
Something hits the barrier.
We turn toward the sound, and I see him.
Standing there, looking at me. How easy it would be to walk up to the barrier and reach out and take his hand. A part of me wants to. To let it all down and watch as he walks to me and wraps his arms around my waist, and picks me up as his lips touch mine.