Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry, little one; it’s only you and me at this party for as long as we can manage.”
“Nothing you’re saying makes sense!” I declare.
“But you don’t want boring, do you?”
“How do you know what I want? Maybe I’m fine with boring. Boring is safe.”
He just scoffs. “Safe? What fun is safety? There’s no adventure in safety.” He leans in, grinning that too-wide grin. “And you’re a woman who wants adventure, aren’t you?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You know nothing about me. Or what I need.”
He’s staring right at me, and I notice that his eyes are a dark, dark gray. His face is chiseled, beautiful and unnerving, with thick lips and a smile that seems to curve too wide so often, like the Cheshire cat.
“Oh, I want to hear all about your needs.” The way he says the last word makes it sound. . . gulp. . . sexual.
I blink, my mouth going a little dry. Is he flirting with me? I’ve forgotten what that feels like. “Can we get back to the part where there’s a sleeping twin on the other side of your head?”
“Are you hungry?” he asks suddenly. “I bet you’re hungry. I know a place that makes the most delicious meals.”
I frown as he pulls back. Is that a reference to me being thick? My last boyfriend used to say passive-aggressive crap all the time, especially in front of his friends when we were out and anyone mentioned food. Like, oh, she’s always hungry, and there’d inevitably be a snigger from someone.
I cross my arms over my chest as my walls start going up, the past I wanted to leave behind suddenly haunting me like the Ghost of Christmas Present. “What do you mean by that?”
Remus has already started heading down the stairs. “Hmm?” he asks over his shoulder, barely turning to look back at me. “Head down to the dining room. Eleven floors down. I’ll meet you there with dinner.”
And then he opens up one of the many windows along the stairwell and jumps right out of it.
“Hey!” I yelp, jogging down and grabbing the window frame. “I was trying to talk to you!”
But he’s already a small dot in the distance, dark wings flapping. Damn, he moves fast. I sigh and lean on my forearm, then shake my head.
What in the absolute hell have I gotten myself into? Flying men with tails and angels and sparks of life? I mean, I know I was up for some adventure, but next time, I might have to be a little more specific, huh, God?
I glance toward the heavens, close the window, and groan when I look down the steep staircase. Eleven flights of stairs, here we come.
Chapter Five
REMUS
My consort is perfect. It couldn’t be going better if I had planned it all myself. But I did, so naturally, of course it is. And they call my twin the tactician. Ha! That fool couldn’t have caught himself a consort in a thousand years. I did it in an afternoon.
The perfect consort. It’s a little difficult to focus on where I’m flying as I remember the feel of her lush curves in my arms with every little touch I stole. She did not pull away. Of course, she didn’t. I am the perfect male specimen, after all.
I feel a tug at the back of my head and clench my teeth.
Well, almost perfect.
If only there weren’t one Romulus-shaped flaw attached to my skull and annoyingly integrated into my brain, true perfection would be mine.
But just because it’s the only problem I’ve had in life that has yet to find a permanent solution doesn’t mean one can’t be found.
He locked me in a dungeon for two hundred years. It only seems fair that I’ve found a way to send him nighty-night for. . . well, as long as I can find a way to manage. And, after meeting the fair Lo-Ren, I’ve suddenly become even more mightily motivated.
As I near the city, I use runes to cloak myself. Unlike my dramatic entrance in the human town square earlier, I’m back to skulking about their world.
Unfortunately, they have some of the best toys and food. My stars, the food. Especially this city where I drop down now. Ah, Paris. Even under Napolean, in the midst of the blockades, the city of light never truly lost its shine.
I drop down to a familiar spot in the 5th arrondissement, where I have a large black trench coat and hood stashed. It’s painful and scrunches my wings, but ce la vie. I curl up my tail to hide it and try not to grin at passersby as I take to the streets. They seem to find me disconcerting if I let my full grin stretch. I’ve tried to be careful with Lo-Ren thus far, too, but my perfect little consort has been taking everything in stride.