Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
“Okay,” Ajax says at the same time Talon says, “So about Talia—”
I stop walking, glancing over my shoulder at my brothers. “That's not up for discussion,” I say, then continue walking, pausing and the foyer when I spot Dago backing away from a very pregnant Olivia, her mate, Ransom, not two steps behind her with an imploring and apologetic look on his face.
Olivia points at Dagon. “You have to test her,” she snaps. “You have no idea what's going on in that bathtub.”
Dagon smirks at the pregnant vampire. “As much as I would love to hear about your niece’s adventures in the bathing chamber, there are more pressing issues at hand.”
“And there are plenty of other hunters to do it!” Olivia fires back as Ransom slides in front of her to put himself between her and Dagon. Honestly, it looks like he's protecting Dagon from his mate rather than vice versa. “You are the only one with elemental powers—”
“That doesn't put me at your disposal,” Dagon says, shaking his head. “Shouldn't you be resting? What do you have left, like four months?”
“You are absolutely unbelievable!”
“Should I stop time for this?” Ajax asks from my left, and I shake my head.
“If she lays him on his ass, he’s earned it,” Talon adds.
I blow out a sigh, often feeling like the king's residence is sometimes the equivalent of a modern-day frat house.
“Darling, you really should be laying down, or eating,” Ransom says, drawing her attention.
“I’m always laying down or eating—”
“Eating?” Talia's voice cuts over the scene as she comes around the corner looking absolutely exquisite in a black sparkling dress. “I just walked by the dining room, and the chefs put out an incredible spread. I'm pretty sure I saw an extra batch of muffins in there too.”
“Pumpkin or blueberry?” Olivia asks.
“Pumpkin,” Talia answers.
Olivia glares at Dagon, shooting him a look that screams we're not finished with this, and then smiles at Talia before heading in the direction of the dining room. Ransom bows to Talia as if she's just saved his life, before chasing after his mate.
“Saved by a pumpkin muffin,” Dagon says to Talia. “Never thought I’d see the day when you’d protect me,” he teases, and a hint of nostalgia hits me. She used to be so close to all of us.
“With the way you all are behaving,” she says, smiling at him and then Ajax and Talon. “I fear I may be saving you all so much you’ll have to put me on the payroll.”
“I’m sure we can arrange that,” I say smoothly.
Talia locks eyes with me, and it's all I can do not to drop to my knees instantly. She's so damn gorgeous, her toned body covered in delicate silk that looks like it would be so easy to strip it from her and spend the rest of the evening worshipping every single inch in a way we'd never been allowed to before.
“Shouldn't we be going?” Talia asks, her tone so much sharper than it’d been with Dagon, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“We definitely should,” Ajax says, smacking Talon and nodding to Dagon before they leave yet another awkward situation.
I offer her my arm. “Tonight's event is a silent auction at Edgemont Museum,” I explain. “Xavier assured me Conrad will be there. I can wend us in.”
“If I could wend myself there, I would,” she says before timidly stepping toward me.
“Of course,” I say, doing my best to keep my words short lest I upset her further. I know she’s telling the truth too. Despite her age, only a few of us can wend as far as I can, and if I wait too much longer, she might simply wend in small distances over and over again until she gets to the museum without me.
She loops her arm through mine and blows out of breath. “Any time now.”
I sigh and wrap both of us in magic, folding us through time and space, the clear vision of Edgemont’s prestigious museum in my mind.
We arrive on the opposite street of the museum, appearing too fast for the other museum goers to notice.
The place is lit up with golden lights, the beams illuminating the column sandstone structure that looks like something straight out of my time. Humans dressed in their finest climb the dozen or so stairs to the entrance of the museum, light music sounding from the interior. There are limos going to and from the museum, dropping off billionaires and celebrities. Reporters flash their cameras as if capturing one image will be enough to fulfill their life purpose.
“Modern times,” I say, eying the huddle of reporters that look like a pack of hyenas desperate for a bite. “Some things I will never get used to.”
Talia looks up at me curiously, her arm still looped through mine. “Huh,” she says, motioning to the museum. “I wouldn't trade all the technology and good food and social progress for anything.”