Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“What a pair we make.” He rested his forehead against hers and slid his hands from her shoulders to her neck. He didn’t say anything. He just held her close for a few moments, breathing deep. Then he very gently squeezed her neck and stepped back. “It’s time.”
Wynter slowly dipped her chin. “I’m ready.” She allowed him to lead her out of the Keep, where they found her coven and Maxim waiting. Each of them looked equally eager to get moving.
Curt nods were exchanged and then, as planned, they headed to the surface and walked to the town’s vehicle storage facility. Many people stood around—residents, Ancients, aides, and Aeons—all ready to pile into the modes of transport that would soon be brought out of the warehouse one by one.
Wynter watched as some residents cast the Aeons wary looks. No one trusted the trio’s motives for coming along, and that was understandable. But no one had objected, so maybe they weren’t fond of the idea of leaving the Aeons here unsupervised by any Ancients. Some of the aides had been instructed to keep a very close eye on the oblivious trio during the battle.
Soon, people were filling the assorted vehicles available—SUVs, station wagons, sports cars, motorcycles, minivans, pick-up trucks, all-terrain vehicles, and even a few Winnebagos—and then they were driving through the tunnel to make their way to Aeon.
Wynter, Cain, and her coven had claimed a six-seater jeep. The dominant, commanding bastard probably would have insisted on taking the wheel if he’d had any driving experience. He rode shotgun while she drove. Her coven sat on the two rear passenger rows, not saying much.
Wynter couldn’t help but notice how Cain’s gaze drank in whatever they passed. He’d had ways to “see” the outside world from his prison, but it wasn’t the same. She wished he wasn’t getting these in-person sneak peeks for the first time when on their way to a damn battle.
Considering Adam could “see” beyond Aeon in much the same way, there was of course a chance that he would spot them coming. But it didn’t seem likely that he would carve out time to spy on the land that lay between Aeon and Devil’s Cradle—he would never expect that they would escape their prison. Still, it was a risk they had to take.
The drive to Aeon was no quick journey. Over the course of the next two days, they stopped a few times to rest, eat, change, refresh themselves, or to use the “bathroom”.
It wasn’t until they were a mile away from Aeon that they parked the vehicles in a forested area. Dead leaves crunched beneath Wynter’s feet as she slid out of the jeep. The evening air was fresh, cool, and laced with the scents of dirt, moss, and sweet cedar. There were no bird calls or the chattering of squirrels, as if the wildlife had stilled in uneasiness at the sudden presence of so many predators.
Although dusk was beginning to fall, it wasn’t so dark that she had trouble seeing. Peering between the tall, weathered trees, she could spot the fringe of the woods up-ahead; could make out the vast and familiar prairie land beyond it.
Cain slid his hand up her back and gave her nape a squeeze. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said before making his way toward the other Ancients, who’d gathered into a huddle a few feet away and were waving him over.
Taking a slow glance around, Wynter said, “I remember this forest well. I had to traipse through it after freaking Shelia teleported me to the prairie land over there.”
“Bitch,” Delilah mumbled. “May she rot in hell.”
Well, given she’d sold her soul to an actual gateway to that plane, Shelia was definitely in hell. Wynter knew that much for certain. And if any of her coven died tonight, the same would have happened to them if Cain hadn’t promised her that he would release their souls to be reborn if they died.
She gave each of them a hard look. “You’d better survive this battle. I mean it.”
Xavier snickered. “Well, if you mean it . . .”
She gave his arm a light punch. “I’m serious.”
He raised his hands. “We’ll be fine. I’ll call on Asmodeus if all goes to shit.”
“That’s not actually reassuring.”
“Oh, give the poor demon a break; he’s not so bad.”
“Annis will have my back,” said Delilah.
Anabel frowned. “How? She’s in the spirit world.”
Delilah only smiled.
“Avian shapeshifters, move!” Dantalion called out.
“That’s me,” said Hattie. “In a witchy-sense, of course.”
“Remember, don’t get too close to the keepers,” Wynter told her. “They’re often armed. We don’t want them shooting you out of the sky.”
Hattie gently patted one side of Wynter’s face and smiled. “I’ll be fine, dear. I’m too mean to die.” She cackled at that and then, with a colorful burst of magick, shifted into a crow. Like the other avians, she took to the sky to scope out the area surrounding the entrance to Aeon.