Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
I flip through the pages, but they’re all blank after this one. Not even a torn page.
“No!” I flip through, but nothing is there. “What the fuck!”
I slam the book closed and toss it over my shoulder. Swiping my phone, I type out a text to Pop.
She said she saw a Riverside sign, but there’s nothing else after that. Did she die? She saw men right before it ended. She spoke weird.
Stella leans back and grabs the book, opening it onto the first page. “Who is it?”
I pluck it off her. “It’s—I don’t know yet. I think it has to do with the curse. Maybe?”
“We can help figure out who she is.” Stella holds my gaze, the corners of her eyes softening.
“Sure, Stells.” I smile at her gently.
“We have to get ready for this dinner party tonight.” River lowers herself down in front of me. “Don’t worry about this curse. We will figure it out.”
Guilt tears through me once more. “I know.”
War
My Zippo flips between my fingers as I ignore the commotion in front of me.
Priest leans against the wall, and I watch as he studies the woman closely. Her legs hang off the mattress of the four-post bed. “We have to decide how we’re going to go forward with this.”
I snap my Zippo closed. “She’s a fucking liar. How about we start with that?” I’ve thought about one hundred different ways to approach the Halen situation, and they all end with my hand on her throat.
Fucking professional bullshitter.
I shift my weight forward, resting my forearms on my thighs as the girl’s chestnut brown hair falls over her shoulder.
I kneel in front of her. “You see that guy behind me? The one staring at you? He’s the one who decided to pluck you from the bush. Not me. So I have no problem killing you.” I smile widely at her. “How many people you got? What do you do in those little huts? Why the fuck is it set up in the bush, right between Riverside and Bayonet Falls?”
Her dark blue eyes shift to Priest, but her lip quivers. Shit.
The palms of her hands find her thighs.
“So, you don’t actually speak.” I lean back in my chair. “Kind of hoped that was a temporary thing.” Priest and his dumb ass picking up stray fucking cats off the road. Or worse. Off some fucked-up compound we know jack shit about.
She glances up at Vaden, her brown skin flawless as the lighting above hits her. She lingers on him a moment, before moving back to Priest, tucking her hair behind her ear until her robe shifts with the movement.
“Who are you?” Priest’s eyes narrow on her.
She shuffles up the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest.
Priest stays in his spot. “How fucking old do you think she is?” Her body is small, but she may just be malnourished.
She doesn’t lift her head.
My head cocks. “I don’t know. Old enough.”
The door behind us opens and then closes. Katsia brushes in and the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
My hand flies out to stop her before her hand touches me.
“So moody,” she whines with sass, circling around my body. “Who do we have he—" Her smile falls when she sees the girl, but she recovers quickly. “Who do we have here?”
“What the fuck was that?” I glare at Katsia. We should have put her in our house, but we couldn’t risk the girls rolling in unattended now that they all have full access to their trusts and to every resource ever collected for the EKC. So, we’ve kept her locked in this room.
“Nothing!” She purses her lips, as if I’m being ridiculous. “She’s just beautiful is all.”
No lie.
“Find her something to wear. Our little guest is coming to the founding members’ dinner party,” Priest announces casually.
I follow him as we head down the stairs to the kitchen, leaving Katsia and Vaden with the girl. Not sure if that’s the best idea.
“Why would we bring her?” A muscle in my neck turns rigid and I reach up to massage it with my thumb.
Priest shrugs. “Because I want to see if anyone there recognizes her.”
I cross my arms in front of myself, leaning against the wall. “As in what?”
“As in that shit has been not too far off our backyard for how long, and we didn’t know?” He flicks off the lid to a bottle of bourbon. “This has Bishop Vincent Hayes all over it.”
“Priest,” I hiss. “This hasn’t got shit to do with him. That may have been off our land, but it isn’t Riverside, and you know that we don’t fuck with shit outside these borders unless we have to. Besides,” I snatch the bottle from his hands with a glare, “it was a fucking three-hour drive inland. It wasn’t close to fucking anything.”