Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 139076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Fox pushed to his feet and crossed toward the kitchen. “You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“I didn’t,” Winter replied softly.
For a second, Winter struggled to breathe. He gripped the counter in front of him until his fingers ached. Panic was rising like a tidal wave in his chest, threatening to pound him into the sand. How was this possible? The voices had plagued him since he was a fucking child. When he was reborn as a vampire, the voices became ghosts. They were always there, no matter the time of day or where he was. Talking, talking, talking.
There were so few moments of pure, blissful silence when he could hear only his own thoughts. The only time he could get a reliable break was when he was driving. Night had passed with him spending hours in the car just to get away from it all.
But now, he was standing in his own home and there was just…silence.
A lump formed in his throat and squeezed his lungs. His knees were trembling, threatening to dump him on his ass, but he didn’t care. Hope fluttered in his chest, and he tried to squash it. He was scared to hope that this might last. God, he’d take a night. He longed for longer, but he would be grateful for just one night.
He wanted this more than air.
More than blood.
But it was too good to be true.
Winter’s eyes snapped to Fox as a new thought slammed into his brain. If this was Fox’s doing, was this how he destroyed his family? Did he slowly steal away Winter’s powers? Or would the ghosts offer up some critical warning that would otherwise save the Variks, but Winter would now miss it because of Fox?
Clenching his teeth against a scream of frustration and pain, Winter glared at Fox. “Is this your doing?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The ghosts. I can’t see the ghosts! Did you do this?” Winter shouted, panic starting to overwhelm the tenuous hold on his control.
Fox held up his open hands, stepping away from the breakfast bar, as if he were afraid to get any closer to Winter. “I haven’t done anything. I just woke up.”
Winter balled his hands into fists and made himself plant his feet. He didn’t trust himself not to come around the bar and grab the other man. Simply shake the information he needed out of him. “No, this started when we were still in Virginia. Before we even reached the hotel. What did you do?”
Shaking his head, Fox took another step backward. “I haven’t done anything. I swear.”
Fox claimed he couldn’t do any spells or significant magic, but this was a big fucking deal. It had to be the witch’s doing.
But how?
How would he even know that Winter could see and speak to the dead? It wasn’t something he’d told anyone.
And why this? If he meant to hurt Winter, why would he do this?
Unless he somehow knew this was how Winter got much of his dirt on the other vampires. The silence was pure bliss, but it undermined Winter’s ability to protect his family. This was his edge over the other vampires. It was how he knew who was plotting and scheming against the Variks.
Would this grow worse? Would he lose his ability to step in the world of the dead completely?
Fox had to be doing this. Winter swayed a little and caught the edge of the counter with one hand. Why would Fox willingly do this to him? Pain twisted in his gut like he’d been stabbed, and he pressed his free hand there.
“Please, talk to me, Winter. I don’t understand what’s going on,” Fox pleaded.
“Don’t you?” Winter replied. He moved out of the kitchen so that the breakfast bar no longer separated them. Fox wavered, rocking a little on his feet, as if he were fighting the urge to backpedal. The witch met his gaze with worry and confusion in his eyes, but not fear. Part of Winter wanted to believe him. They’d laughed together. Fox had flirted so sweetly, and there was just something so vulnerable in his manner that Winter wanted to protect the man. Had he been taken in by a cunning act, so he’d drop his guard?
“What have you done to the ghosts? Is this a spell?” he asked, somehow managing to keep his voice low and even while panic sloshed around his soul.
“Winter, I swear I’ve cast only one tiny spell since we’ve been together, and that was to get out of the handcuffs that first morning. That’s it. I don’t know magic.”
“Except that you are a witch. The very witch named in a prophecy about the destruction of my family.”
Fox groaned and threw up his hands. “Except that you have no idea if I’m actually the witch named in that stupid prophecy. Fuck! Anyone can make a prophecy.” He waved his fingers at Winter and the vampire flinched. “I predict that you’re going to stop drinking blood and survive solely on mashed potatoes.” Fox dropped his hands down at his sides and glared at Winter. “How likely do you think that prophecy is to happen?”