Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“Accident.” Cyrus clears his throat. “It was a while ago. I wouldn’t mention it.”
Enki snorts. “If you say so.”
Cyrus instantly turns on some sort of classical music. He takes the streets further towards the Pier and things begin to get a bit darker around us, dingier, or maybe just worn.
People walking down the street see the SUV and slowly look over and stare in what feels like anticipation as we drive by. I can honestly say I’ve been a lot of places but this area of town feels different. A heaviness washes over my body nearly paralyzing me.
Their stares aren’t normal.
Cyrus grips the steering wheel hard and pulls into a parking spot in front of a small bar and grill. Small torches line the front of the building across the black metal walls. They burn extremely bright and add to a cool ambiance.
“Sin.” I turn to Cyrus. “Like a place to eat for sinners and saints?”
“Naturally. Sin’s very welcome to everyone these days, hmm, Cyrus,” Enki says from behind him. “He did after all name it after his own seven deadly ones, right Cyrus? What was the worst of it? Lust?”
Lust? What? I do a double take and point at Cyrus. “You own this too?”
“I like to eat,” Cyrus says before cutting the engine.
“Ah,” Enki snaps his fingers. “Gluttony, sorry my mistake.”
Cyrus curses under his breath and gets out of the car. Guess that’s my cue. Does he take every new employee out for breakfast? It finally dawns on me that he might actually be taking me here just in case I need to bar tend here as well. My plate is going to be so full—too full to even worry about Jake. He never mentioned two bars though. Just how many places does Cyrus own?
Enki beats him to my door and opens it. “Have fun. I’m sure it’s going to be interesting.”
He winks and then saunters off in his black leather jacket and hole-filled jeans away from the pub.
People give him a wide berth at first, and then he holds out his plate of rolls and stops in the middle of one of the sidewalks like he’s getting ready to feed the poor or something.
I can’t hear what he says but he’s definitely talking to everyone around him, and they’re eating it up like candy, gathering closer and closer, reaching toward him like they want to touch him.
Suddenly, several old people are getting in line and taking the cinnamon rolls from him and saying thank you and bowing like they never get food.
Frowning, I’m still trying to figure it out. All of them are old, really old.
Cyrus curses under his breath. “Come on,” He takes my arm. “We should eat. Enki will be fine.”
I shrug and follow after Cyrus, still looking back at Enki. “It’s nice that he feeds the elderly.”
Cyrus’s entire body tenses almost visibly before he opens the door. “Killing is never a kindness but a necessity.”
“What?” Chills run down my spine. Did he just say what I think he said?
“Like I warned, don’t eat anything he offers.”
“Poison?” I’m ready to sprint toward the slow ferry and never look back, what kind of lunatic poisons people with warm food? “Please tell me your kidding.”
Cyrus frowns down at me, his eyebrows draw together like I’m a math problem. He seems way too calm about his brother handing out evil cinnamon rolls. “I never said poison.”
“But you said kill.”
He ignores me, walks up to the bar, and knocks twice on the wood. “Two menus.”
“You again,” a voice interrupts.
A man is sitting at the bar. He’s wearing a grimy white shirt, work pants, and tall boots. His braided hair is jet-black and flows past his shoulders. His fingers are filthy. In fact, everything about him screams dirty, and yet he’s really attractive. How does he get so dirty but keep his hair so perfect? Even his braids dangling past his pierced ears look neat and tidy.
“You know you don’t have to eat here,” Cyrus growls. “Had another fight with your dad?”
The guy just shrugs and takes a ginormous bite of eggs followed by a gulp of coffee. “He’s a dick this time of year.”
“That we can agree on,” Cyrus mutters. “Except it’s every day, every year.”
They both seem to snort in unison of joined irritation.
“Anyway, the town won’t protect itself.” The guy gets up and grabs a tool belt from the seat next to him.
“This must be her.” The guy says.
I instantly gaze into his eyes. They’re so dark they’re almost black. I mean they’re clearly brown, but they look like they belong to a man without a soul.
Wait, and he protects things? He seems more the type to destroy them or burn them to the ground.
“Yup, this is Jake’s sister, one of my new employees. Since things are slow in the mornings I’m showing her the ropes. I might even let her explore the magical fantasies of Sin.”