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)
“Oh, is that so? Well, that makes two of us.” Shelia skimmed her gaze over the rest of the coven. “Nope, nothing impressive to see here.”
The other vampires shifted nervously.
Sidling up to Anabel, Wynter gave Shelia a sweet smile. “Well, you could continue to watch us not give a crumb of a fuck what you think about literally anything . . . or you could walk away. Totally up to you.”
Shelia scoffed. “You think you’re special just because you get to ride Cain’s cock. Sorry to point out what should be obvious to you, sweetie, but you’re not the first. Plenty of women had him before you, and plenty will have him after he dumps your ass. Which he will. It’s merely a matter of time. And when that day comes, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”
“And my give-a-shit-o-meter still ain’t moving.” Wynter gave her a “what can you do?” shrug. “Lovely chatting with you.” She went to pass the vampires, but Shelia stupidly slipped in front of her.
The vampire snarled. “You think I’m afraid of you?”
Wynter took a step forward, pleased when the little bitch tensed. “What I think is that you believe being Ishtar’s aide protects you. Maybe it does usually. But it won’t protect you from me. You don’t believe that? Well, consider that it didn’t protect Azazel’s aide. You never wondered where Bowen went?”
Shelia’s eyes flickered.
One of the other vamps rested a hand on Shelia’s shoulder, avoiding Wynter’s gaze. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Yes, do go.” Wynter skirted around Shelia, whose hand shot out and gripped her arm. Wynter didn’t hesitate to act. She struck with magick, lashing it like a whip.
Stumbling aside, Shelia stared at her decaying hand in horror. It burned, charred, and flaked away. She screamed and screamed and screamed . . . and then she stopped as her hand “returned” to normal, only then realizing it had been a mere illusion.
“I can make it happen for real, if you’d like,” Wynter offered.
Shelia swallowed, looking dazed. She didn’t protest as her friends led her away.
Anabel looked at Wynter as they and the rest of the coven resumed walking. “Do you think Ishtar encourages all her hirelings to hate you?”
“Probably,” Wynter replied. “I can understand why those who are excessively loyal to her would loathe me so much. Maxim would be pissed at anyone who gave Cain problems.”
“Hmm, I guess so,” said Anabel. “I still don’t like it.”
“Me neither,” Delilah fairly growled. “I’m in the mood to cut a bitch up right now.”
“That’ll have to wait until we’ve been to the bookstore,” Hattie declared. “I’m not missing—” She jumped as thunder cracked the air.
Wynter looked up to see thick gray clouds gathering in the sky. More, a face flashed to life within it. Adam’s face.
“Oh, shit,” said Delilah.
“You were given time to bring me what I want,” Adam began, his voice loud but crackling, “just as Cain and Wynter Dellavale were given time to hand themselves over. You were warned what would happen if my terms were not met. Now you will know what that meant.”
A godawful howl of wind came whistling over the town, and the temperature dropped in an instant. No, it didn’t merely drop. It took a fucking nosedive.
Her ears popped as the air pressure changed, and then Wynter spat a curse as the wind went insane. There was no real turning away from the onslaught, because it wasn’t going in any one direction. It seemed to come from every angle.
Autumn leaves, grass, and debris were swirling around the air, swept up in the gale. Trees swayed with audible creaks. Awnings flapped like crazy. Garbage cans rattled.
Wynter’s hair whipped at her face and partially obscured her vision. Her clothes fluttered against her body, the bags she carried swinging and bashing her legs.
The wind quickly went from sharp to buffeting. It bit at her skin, icy cold and hard as a stinging slap. Her eyes watered, and each puff of breath she let out fogged the air. Air that suddenly smelled of ozone and was so crisp it hurt to breathe it in.
Delilah staggered into a lamppost, bumping her hip hard. “The hell?”
Wynter stumbled against the gust of air rushing over the town, squinting at her coven. “The liquor store!” she yelled, her voice somewhat muffled by the horrendous noise of the wind. “Get inside!”
Ducking their heads, they pushed against the force of the wind as they tried heading to the nearest building. Which was the exact moment when a flurry of snowflakes came tumbling from the sky and all but battered them.
Wynter almost let out a shocked squeal. The wind whipped the snow everywhere, so it pelted her from all sides. She swore as some flakes found their way down the back of her collar.
The garbage can in front of them fell over with a clang—