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)
It helped that some of the troops had wisely retreated. She’d bet that they hoped the Aeons would allow them to hide beneath ground with them. She doubted the arrogant fuckers would permit it, but she’d soon find out.
Two troops bypassed Anabel/Mary wickedly fast, heading right for Wynter. She swiped out with her blade, slashing at one. The other fisted her hair but just as quickly released her with a loud cry as Xavier stabbed his sword through the dickhead’s side. Wynter concentrated on the other troop, burning and infecting him with her magick even as she fenced, eventually taking him out with a brutal and fatal blow to the throat.
Xavier swiftly used his magick to reanimate the two corpses, just as he’d done to most of their victims—hence their current army of the undead, which sure came in handy. The zombies quickly joined it.
“I really should not like that you use your magick this way, but I damn well do,” she said to Xavier, needing to talk loud so that he’d hear her above the horrendous din.
The guy grinned. “Awesome, aren’t I?”
A troop rushed Wynter, his sword raised. With a soft curse, she quickly whipped up her blade and blocked the blow, their weapons clashing with a distinctive clang. She moved fast and fluid as they fought. He was good. Clever. Fast enough to catch her off-guard. Heat sliced her chest as the tip of his sword scored her, tearing cloth, drawing blood.
Gritting her teeth, Wynter all but flew at him, expertly slicing and dodging. He staggered backwards under the pressure, and an opening finally came. Wynter wasted no time in taking him out with a hard thrust of her sword through his gut.
Her monster snarled, sulking at only being allowed to watch as opposed to fight—well, to eat and maim. Kali repeatedly cautioned it not to surface. Thankfully.
The buzzing of insects joined the many other sounds of battle. Cain. A smile built inside her at the confirmation that he was alive, and some of the tension left her muscles. She hadn’t let herself wonder if he was okay. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. She couldn’t—
Wynter frowned. “Mary, no, we don’t drink blood!”
Pouting, the blonde dropped the severed head she’d been about to drink from while holding it upside down . . . like it was a fucking mug of soup.
Unbelievable.
Wynter and her coven kept moving forward, hacking through troop after troop with the help of their undead friends. Before becoming immortal, she’d have been tiring and slowing and sporting far more injuries at this point. But now, her blows were still strong, her reflexes were still sharp, and her breathing wasn’t yet labored.
Tag-teaming an unfortunately powerful telekinetic vampire, Wynter and Delilah managed to reduce him to ashes with their combined arsenal of teeth, claws, magick, and sword. Which was right about when Wynter realized that Xavier was knocking back one of Anabel’s healing potions . . . and sporting one fuck of an injury to his chest.
Her heart leaped. “You okay?”
He nodded, rolling back his shoulders. “Punctured lung. I’ll be all right now.”
Anabel/Mary pressed a kiss to his cheek even as she thrust her arm out to the side, stabbing a troop right in the face. Well, ow.
Wynter’s peripheral vision yelled a warning. She ducked, evading the energy ball that then sailed over her head. She turned toward her attacker, noticing he was chanting under his breath. Before she could strike, a heavy blast of magick punched her right in the damn solar plexus. The breath left her lungs in a rush, and she felt her hand spasm around the hilt of her sword.
Oh, she was gonna destroy this fucker.
She didn’t get the chance. A glass vial shattered as Anabel/Mary threw a potion at his feet. Smoke puffed upward and surged down his throat. He stumbled backwards with a choking sound, scratching at his neck, his face reddening to the extreme. Eventually he hit the ground hard, dead.
Wynter gave Anabel/Mary a nod of thanks, who went back to singing, only adding to the awful level of noise. Clangs, screams, roars, and explosions fairly vibrated in the air.
The Ancients were still hurling blasts of power everywhere. The buildings in the town were all but demolished. The number of troops had gone down—partly because so many were dead, and partly because many others had given up on fighting and were seeking cover. Wynter had stumbled upon a fair few of them. And she might have let them be if they hadn’t tried to nab her. Idiots.
Hearing a hissing whistle, Wynter turned just in time to lift her sword and deflect the fireball that came her way. She spun to face her attacker, who charged at her in a blur. She backpedaled fast, bringing up her blade to slam it against his own.