Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I sigh, then smile. My head is kinda pounding, but I don’t even care. “Two weeks? So we’re free? He’s not coming?”
“We slipped him days ago.”
“Days? How long have I been asleep?”
“Technically, you were dead.”
“You said—”
“I lied. You were dead. We smuggled you into the country in a coffin.” She begins to giggle hysterically. “Oh, my God, Syr. Remind me to fill you in on all the antics Tristin and I—”
“Antics?” Tristin’s deep voice penetrates the canvas tent. “Those weren’t antics, Zusannah! They were fuck-ups!”
Zuse and I both put hands over our mouths so he can’t hear us laugh.
“Anyway.” She shrugs her shoulders up to her ears. “We’re here. And we’ve been ordered to pamper you and let you rest.” She picks up a cluster of grapes and dangles them near my face. “Would you like a peeled grape, princess?”
Then she lowers the cluster down and I pluck one off with my lips.
And I decide… yeah.
Fuck the world, ya know?
I didn’t ask for any of this. None of it. And I’m tired. Not just literally from whatever death magic the Guild just did on me—but spiritually too. And now that I’m out of that cabin and away from her rotting body, everything about my last visit with my grandma makes me feel gross instead of sad.
I’m done. The protection is over, the magic is gone, and I’ve been kicked out of the only home I’ve ever had and no matter what happens next, I’m gonna be lost and alone.
So fuck the world.
I’m gonna sit on a beach for two weeks. I’m gonna forget all about being a Black witch, and the vampire who wants to suck me dry, and that scion who’s hunting me.
CHAPTER TEN - RYET
I am just an addict.
My phone rings again. And of course it’s him.
Don’t answer it. Just like the last five times, all you have to do is just not answer it.
I should take that advice. I really should. But… I shake my head and accept the call.
“Where are you?”
“Miami.”
“Did you find her?”
“Don’t you think I would call you if I found her?”
He doesn’t say anything. And this is how all his calls go since the girl got away and the feeder died. I get that he’s the boss. I even sorta maybe respect that a little bit. He is… Paul, after all.
But I’m tired of this bullshit. “You’re giving me a headache.”
“You should just come home.”
And there it is.
I’ve been waiting for him to finally say this because while he does want the girl, he’s not in a hurry for her. It would be nice to find her immediately, but he’s immortal. Who gives a fuck? What he really wants is me, at home, with him. But his place is not my home. Not even close.
He could order me. He could make me go to his compound. But he won’t. He doesn’t want to force me into things. He’s been saying this on repeat since I was second-born.
“I’m close, Paul.”
“You’re not.”
“How would you know?”
He sighs. But he’s got an answer. Maybe I’m no Josep or Lucia, but I know Paul. I know him very well. And that sigh is a tell that he’s holding back.
“What?” I’m snappish and I hate that. I hate losing control, even if it’s just a little bit of heat in my tone.
“I haven’t told you about them yet.”
“About who?”
“The Guild.”
I close my eyes, press my lips together to shut myself up, and nod my head, trying to breathe deeply. Even though he can’t see me, he can see me. He knows me just as well as I know him. “There’s a Guild?” I say these words through clenched teeth. “Why am I just hearing about this?”
“It’s all very need-to-know. And I wasn’t sure that you needed to know.”
“But now you are?”
“I am.”
“Can you… enlighten me on how you know this Guild is involved?”
“Come home and I’ll tell you the whole story.”
“No.” He knows I’m not going there. I’m never going there unless he forces me. “So tell me now, or forget it. I don’t care.”
“You really don’t care, do you?”
And now we’re back to this. He fights with me like we’re lovers, and we’re not. I drink him. This is all there is to us. Food. He is my food.
Why can’t he just… find someone else to bother with his fucking feelings?
“Do you know what that witch told me?”
“What witch?” For a moment I think he’s talking about the one I’m hunting.
“The feeder who just died. Do you know what she said?”
I blow out a breath. “‘Curse you and all your offspring for seventeen generations?’”
“You think it’s funny, don’t you?”
“Which part? Because some of this is, Paul. You’re being an asshole. I’m hunting down your fucking feeder, OK? Just leave me alone.”
“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through in the past week?”