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)
“What the fuck! I swear I didn’t cast a spell,” Fox shouted. Winter glanced quickly over his shoulder to see Fox take a couple of frightened steps backward.
Winter grabbed a coil of rope and locked the cabinet again. He turned toward Fox and grabbed his elbow. “I believe you.”
“Then what’s the deal with the rope?” Fox demanded as Winter pulled him out of the office and to the stairs.
“I need to test something, and this is the only way I can be one hundred percent sure of my results.”
“Winter—”
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
The vampire ushered Fox into the guest bedroom he was using and directed him to sit on the bed, near the headboard. To his credit, Fox didn’t try to fight him. He used his words to attempt to sway Winter, but the vampire gritted his teeth and ignored him as best as he could. He wanted to trust Fox, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Fear and hope were warring in his brain, making his fingers shake as he tied Fox’s hands together and then to the headboard.
“Winter! You let me think you were different from Damon and the rest of those bastards!” Fox snarled, already pulling at his bindings the moment Winter released him.
Winter grabbed both of Fox’s shoulders, holding him still. He hated himself, seeing the sheen of unshed tears in olive-green eyes mixed with rage and fear. “I need you to trust me.”
“Please, Winter. Don’t leave me like this. Not again. Please, I’ll do whatever you want. I won’t bother you or flirt with you anymore. I’ll never leave this room again,” Fox pleaded, anger giving way to fear and desperation.
“This isn’t a punishment, Fox. I swear. I will come right back. I have to see how much you impact my abilities. To do that, I have to be sure of exactly where you are.”
“I won’t move, I swear. Just don’t leave me tied up.”
Winter cupped the side of Fox’s face, shame and self-loathing burning in his chest. “I’m sorry. I swear this is only for a minute. I just need to check something, and then I’ll release you.”
Fox’s bottom lip trembled, and he bit it hard as if trying to get it to stop before he gave one curt nod.
Part of Winter wanted to linger, just until Fox had calmed and the memories of being held by Damon faded enough to stop his panic. But it was better if he got this done quickly. He had to know the truth. To find the limits. It was all just too much to hope after so many long years.
Jumping to his feet, he jogged out of the room and down the stairs again. He paused and looked back at the window where he’d seen the ghost earlier, but she wasn’t there. Using his powers, he peeked past the veil and she was still there in the dead world, but he couldn’t see her while in the living.
He stopped in the office to grab a knife prior to continuing to the front door. There were no ghosts in the main floor, so he continued to move farther away from Fox. If the witch wasn’t casting a spell, maybe there was just something about him that suppressed Winter’s natural ability to see ghosts.
But if that were true, there had to be some kind of range to Fox’s gift.
Silently, he descended the stairs to the main floor of the warehouse, where his cars were stored. The air was cool and a little stale. Lights flickered on with his movements, and Winter’s eyes darted around the open area. No ghosts and there were always two or three drifting through this area.
With the knife tightly clenched in one hand, Winter moved over to a side door and punched in a code to unlock it. The sun had set not long ago, but the sky would still be light for at least another thirty minutes. Enough to burn his eyes if he wasn’t careful.
The door opened slowly to the alley and he peeked out into the shadows. There was no one waiting to ambush him and steal Fox away. No cars passed along the street, but he could hear the rush of evening traffic in the distance.
Gazing toward the sidewalk, he started to step out of the doorway when a ghost strolled by, huddled under an umbrella as if it were trying to stay out of the rain even though there wasn’t a drop falling from the sky.
He’d found the edge of Fox’s gift.
With his eyes locked on the ghost, Winter took a step backward into the building and the ghost grew hazier before his eyes. Sucking in a choked breath, Winter let the door close in front of him and he leaned heavily against the concrete wall. His legs didn’t want to hold him up, but it didn’t matter.