Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Once again, she caught herself panting with desire. The same consuming fire that had threatened to engulf her ever since she’d rested her palm on his muscular chest and wonder had lit up his incredible eyes. A thousand times, she’d almost demanded he take her to bed and give her pleasure for her pain. He owed her, after all.
Except, no enemy should be allowed to affect her physically. And Roux wouldn’t be able to do so, if he didn’t resemble Laban in some way. Yes, that must be the reason. Both were strong, blond, and, well, male.
Wait. What was this? Though Roux remained seated in the chair, he also stood. But the standing Roux was too bright to be a spirit yet not solid enough to be a body. Sitting Roux looked as if he’d been powered down.
That brightness... He’d projected his soul out of his body, hadn’t he, making himself an open smorgasbord to any phantoms nearby. And oh, how tasty he appeared. A feast of power.
No one would be able to see him, except a phantom like Blythe.
As he ghosted through the door, a warrior on a mission, she jolted into an upright position. To follow him or stay here and search his stuff, maybe even rig his weapons to fail? Oh, oh. Since he’d left her, she might be able to bypass her oath and leave him, whisking to Wraith Island to wheel and deal with Penelope. Worth the risk?
While options two, three, and four appealed greatly, curiosity got the best of her. Blythe shoved her hatred into that hidden corner in her mind. Strength returned faster than before. More strength than before, too. She should have no problem slipping into a spirit plane.
A grin bloomed. Roux might sense her, as he had before, but he wouldn’t see her. Therefore, he couldn’t prove she’d acted inappropriately. If anything, she was doing something right, keeping her oath by remaining within his sight. Kind of.
Blythe gave chase, passing his notebook. Backtracking. Okay, so, maybe she could spend a minute or two spying for the good of her cause.
She flipped through the pages of the book. Uh... A flush heated her skin, and she fanned her cheeks. He’d written the same word over and over. Feast.
Her lungs emptied. Was the thought directed at her?
She needed to get out of here before she talked herself into becoming his next meal.
On the way out, her gaze got caught on the crown. Once again, she backtracked. Must touch...
Trembling, she reached out... If she wore this magnificent circlet, Roux might—Roux! Gah! Blythe stilled and huffed an angry breath, hit by another realization. The crown clearly had some sort of mystical draw. It must. From now on, she’d have to be careful around it.
Right now, nothing mattered more than finding Roux. She rushed from the bedroom. An unfamiliar vampire and siren stood sentry in the hall. There to ensure the honored guests remained within? Rolling her eyes at such a feeble block, she hurried on, unnoticed. Following the Astra’s scent—there was no missing it, even in this form—she glided down a narrow staircase.
There! He entered and exited rooms. Anytime he encountered one resident in conversation with another, he stopped to listen. Discussions about the “sperm donor” caused his features to twist before he marched on. Debates about who might win the tournament elicited interest. So. He sought info about the coming battle and its probable victor. The woman—queen—he must kill to complete his task.
Blythe listened while taking in palace details she’d missed on her way in. Elaborate buffets. Comfy sofas. Flameless torches. Murals depicting a bloody battle of some sort between warrior women of every species. True to the realm’s history?
On the fourth floor, they entered a room filled with women who were throwing what looked to be popcorn at a white sheet that hung on the wall. That sheet showcased an old episode of New Girl.
On the third floor, a group of ten immortals congregated with Roux’s dates at a long, rectangular table. They passed pieces of parchment around.
Following the Astra’s lead, Blythe leaned over someone’s shoulder to study the parchments herself. Hmm. One was a blueprint for what looked to be an underground fight club. The other had nothing but text. A vow? Oh, yeah. Definitely a vow—Roux’s. Considering there was a promise in there to date ten women, this must be the pledge he’d made to save Blythe.
Back to the underground fight club. Was the tournament to take place there? How intriguing.
“Okay,” an Amazon said. “I call this Get You Some meeting to order. And guys? We’re down to the wire here. Did you hear me? The wire. We gotta figure out how to murder a phantom and trap ourselves a torture master once and for all.”
13
THE TEMPTATION
Bargain: Day 2
“Wake up, Warden.” Blythe reached for Roux, only to draw back. Touch him free of charge? No!