Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“Don’t you dare!” Neeka spun in front of Rathbone. Her dark eyes glittered with cunning rather than concern. “Let me challenge him to a duel. Or kill him outright here and now. Or tell him about the vision I just had of his future. But your dignity is mine.”
As she spoke, Rathbone watched her and Hades. The male projected only amusement until she mentioned the vision. Then he went still.
Rathbone almost smiled. Brilliant Neeka. She’d offered bait and hooked a big fish. Two fish, actually. He was curious to hear about the vision himself. “Very well, love. I’ll keep my dignity.”
“Thank goodness!” She kissed him before facing the king. “Well? Your move.”
Hades tapped his claws against the chair arms. “I’ll hear the vision, and in return, I’ll grant you a one minute chat with my mirror. Two if I like what you have to say. The interaction will occur here, and I will bear witness.”
“Five minutes,” Neeka proclaimed. “Because you’re going to hate what I have to say.”
There was no stopping Rathbone’s smile now.
Glowering and stiff, Hades nodded. “Done. Five minutes with the mirror in exchange for a detailed accounting of both your vision and your coming interaction with my goddess.”
Behind him, soldiers rushed over. Using ropes and pulleys, they lowered the mirror and secured it upright.
“Leave us,” he commanded when they finished.
The soldiers zoomed out. Pippen and his clipboard stayed behind.
“I’ll cancel the rest of your appointments for the day, Majesty,” the servant said, his tone as efficient as his manner. “I’ll also cancel your afternoon orgy and pencil in a good long pout in case the young lady is correct.”
Hades scowled. “Very good, Pippen. Now, let us proceed.”
Neeka waited for Rathbone’s nod before telling the other male, “Most of my visions are clips of reality. Sometimes they are symbolic. I’ll let you decide which this is.” She inhaled, exhaled. “You stand at a crossroads. One fork leads into a violent storm, where hail pelts an overgrown jungle with traps hidden throughout. But, beyond the storm and the jungle, a paradise awaits. A beautiful black female with white hair beckons you over. You go to her, overcoming many injuries along the way. She cuts out her heart and gifts it to you.”
“And the other fork?” Hades demanded. Did he realize he was now white-knuckling the arms of his throne?
“A paradise that leads to a hellscape. Along the path, the sun is shining, flowers are blooming, and birds are singing. But a storm rages at the end, where the same female awaits, beckoning you. Once again, you go to her. When you reach her, you are without wounds. Until she claws out your heart and eats it.”
With clenched teeth, the king asked, “And which do I choose?”
“Both. And neither.”
Hades huffed. “That tells me nothing.”
“And yet it tells you everything,” she offered, all innocence.
“Get specific or you won’t earn an interaction with my mirror,” the male snapped.
“False! I’ve already earned it with specifics. Did I or did I not tell you how much you’d hate what I had to say?” She scratched her chin and looked to Rathbone. “Did I?”
“You did,” he said with a nod. How effortlessly she improved any situation.
“See?” She rubbed her hands together and faced Hades anew. “So go ahead and start the clock.”
* * *
Neeka blazed up the royal dais, her wings buzzing when she spied her own reflection. How did you summon a cursed goddess?
With time of the essence, Neeka knocked on the glass. “Siobhan. Yo. Get up here, girl.”
“Careful,” Hades snarled behind her. She watched his mouth in the glass. “Do that again, and I will remove your fist.”
“Don’t threaten her,” Rathbone snarled back, at the king’s side. The two males flanked her.
She looked good leading muscle. But this was a professional business meeting, not an audition for bodyguards. “Look,” she said to the girl in the mirror. “I’m on a clock here. Someone at some point in history told me to speak with you. I think you’re the solution to my problem. Are you?”
A wave descended over the glass, as if it had liquefied. Then another wave came. And another. Her brows knit together. Slowly she reached out. Contact. Her fingers sank—a clawed hand shot out to clasp onto her wrist and yank her through.
The throne room vanished and hazy smoke billowed in front of her. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she’d see Rathbone and Hades. If they could see her. No sign of the other world. Dang. What if she was stuck? Had she walked into a trap?
“Hello?” she called.
The vapor sucked together, producing a woman who appeared both modern and old-fashioned. Oh! Oh! She was the woman. A black beauty with long white hair in tangles. She wore a Victorian gown of jet, with a beaded corset and a flared skirt. Tattered threads hung from the wrist cuffs and hem.