Chiromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts #8) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Seven Forbidden Arts Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
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Fuel.

Her body went cold.

They’re planning on burning the helicopter.

“No!”

She fought Doumar’s hold, twisting in his grip to try and free herself, but it was futile. Her cries were lost in the noise of the chaos surrounding them.

Godfrey laughed as he fitted the earpiece that connected him to the aircraft communication system. “Hello, Cain. I don’t have much to say, but I’m going to enjoy hearing your screams.”

He flicked a match and threw it on the ground near the craft.

“The glass and metal are fireproof,” he said to Sky. “But don’t worry. The temperature inside will rise to a level that will cook them alive.”

A flame leapt into the air and ran toward the helicopter. She pinched her eyes shut, silent tears running over her cheeks, but Doumar’s fingers cut into her arm.

“You will watch,” he said, removing his earpiece and fitting it in her ear. “And listen.”

She fixed her gaze on Bono’s face, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

The last thing she saw before Doumar and Godfrey led her to the safety of an armored vehicle was Bono’s palm as he pressed his hand against the glass, reaching for her.

With a jerk, she came back to the present. Her body shook with cold shivers. Pressing her palms on her eyes, she willed away the images lingering in her mind. She saw what she had to do with crystal clarity.

She used the phone Godfrey had given her to dial Doumar.

He answered with a brusque greeting. “What do you want?”

“To see my son, one last time, and then I’ll give up Bono.”

His voice shook. “You’re in love with him.”

“How can I not be? He’s everything I ever wanted in a man.”

“No.”

“After everything you’ve put me through, you’ll deny me even this?”

“You can see him when your black knight is dead.”

“So be it.”

“I’m with my wife and son. Don’t call me again.”

He hung up.

She threw the phone aside. She’d tried. That was what mattered.

Kneeling in front of her bed, she lifted the lid of the trunk she kept at the foot-end. Carefully, she took out the stuffed bunny. It had floppy ears and a lopsided smile. She trailed her fingers over the soft fur that had never been touched by the dirt and chocolate-smeared hand of a toddler. The stitches were not coming apart like in the case of favorite, comfort-bringing toys. A tear dribbled down her cheek as she put it to one side on the rug.

The next item was a fire truck. It had a siren and big, sturdy wheels made for little hands. She ran it over the floor, imagining the noises boys made when they played with cars. Placing the truck next to the bunny, she reached for the book. The tales had never been read to a child. No little boy had drifted off to the magical stories. She used to do voluntary work at the orphanage, reading to the children at night, but Doumar had put a stop to it when he’d found out. She’d taken many books, except for this one. This one was a silent prayer of hope. When the pages were turned, it would mean her prayer had been answered. It appears the book would remain closed.

She followed the same ritual with the wooden train and Batman action figure. It was Niels’s favorite. Five gifts, one for every year of his birthday. She traced every item lovingly, imagining moments that had never been. Sniffing away her tears, she packed the gifts back in the trunk and sat down to write a note. After sealing it in an envelope, she placed it on top of the pile of letters she’d written to Niels, closed the lid, and turned the key in the lock.

It took all her strength to lift herself off the floor. Turning to the mirror, she saw an old woman in a young girl’s skin staring back at her in the reflection. She didn’t shrink away from the sight. She looked, seeing the ugly, the scars, and the failure, but most of all the end of the road.

Taking a piece of cotton wool, she wiped off the dark eyeliner and red lipstick. For tonight, she’d discard her mask.

Tonight was for the truth.

Tonight was for Niels, but also for herself.

As her resolve strengthened, a weight lifted off her shoulders. Her guilt vanished. She was doing the right thing. There was no other way.

She took fresh water from the tank, washed, and dressed. When she was ready, she sent a text message to Bono’s phone, asking to see him. While she waited, she cleaned the caravan and put freshly laundered sheets on the bed.

It was almost midnight when a knock sounded on her door. She opened it to find Bono standing there, smelling like he’d just taken a shower.

He cupped her face and kissed her. “I came as fast as I could get away.”


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