Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“What is that.” She pointed at the remains. “What… the hell is that?”
“You were the one shooting at it—damned if I know. But I’m going to find out and I have the right people to help me.”
Lydia glanced around. Then she refocused on Blade. “Will you let me know what happens to him?”
“Only if you leave.”
The female took a deep breath. Then she unclasped the red robe and let it drop to the ground. A moment later, a wolf was in the place where she stood—and that lasted little longer than a blink. Finally, she was gone, disappearing into the pines on fleet paws that made absolutely no sound.
As wolf calls echoed in the distance, like the female’s kind were howling out for her, Xhex refocused on her motherfucking brother: Blade’s eyes were open and locked on her.
“I knew you were faking it,” she muttered. “And what the fuck are you doing.”
“Well,” he said in that annoyingly superior voice of his, “currently, I am about halfway to bleeding out. Thank you for the inquiry—”
“You leave that female alone. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but her stakes are way too high, and she does not deserve to be fucked with.”
Blade coughed weakly and closed his lids. “Are you calling for help, then, or is your cell phone some kind of fashion accessory.”
“I’m not saving you unless you leave her alone.”
“Why do you care so much about a stranger, sister mine.”
Because I was in her shoes the night before last, with a mate who was dying and nothing on the other side of that death.
And Christ knew Blade was no kind of lifeboat—and if that wolven thought he was the one she was sent up here to find, because of something Xhex had said? Even if it was a big misunderstanding, Xhex wanted no part of that fucking karma.
“What’s it going to be,” she said. “Are you going to give me your word, or are you going to die? Either way, I’m fine with the outcome.”
Blade looked at her again. Narrowed his eyes. “Are you… okay?”
“I’m not hemorrhaging. You?” She took out her phone and waved it around, the glow from the screen strobing over her brother’s beautiful, cruel face. “What are we doing? Are you getting medical help, or am I waiting another fifteen minutes before I call the Brotherhood to figure out what that thing is over there. Tick. Tock.”
When he didn’t reply, she glanced over her shoulder and took in the majestic view. “What are you doing out here, anyway.”
“The same could be asked of you, sister mine.” He coughed again. Then he lifted a weak hand and brushed the blood off his mouth. “You know, the irony of fate is something worthy of a symphath.”
“How so,” she said with boredom.
“I cannot escape the conclusion, though you will no doubt not share it, that the two of us were meant to be here together, tonight… on this mountain.”
“So turn me into a savior, why don’t you. Don’t go near that female again.”
“Fine.” He smiled a little. “You have my word.”
For what it was worth, she thought to herself.
“Good answer,” she muttered as she initiated the call to Doc Jane. “You just saved your life.”
“You’re the one with the phone, sister mine,” he said between weak coughs. “Not me.”
THIRTY-FOUR
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Daniel woke up after logging five hours of passed-the-fuck-out on the bed. The instant his eyes opened, he realized he was alone—so he sat up and put his feet on the rug. A quick glance over at the bedside table, and the note was right there.
Picking up the slip of paper, he unfolded it and smiled as he read the short missive. There was something quaint about Lydia leaving him a note before she left for work, something so wholesome and old-fashioned in the gesture—and the words were just as sweet: She hadn’t wanted to wake him. She would be home early so they could talk. She was sorry to have missed him. She loved him.
He stroked his thumb over her signature. Twice.
“You’re a sap. You’re a fucking sap,” he murmured.
In the bathroom, he took a shower and shaved. Then he brought the note with him into the closet and dressed in fresh clothes. It was clear she’d been in there earlier, a couple of her fleeces out on the center island, a pair of pants discarded like she hadn’t liked the way they’d felt or looked.
Just as he was about to leave, he doubled back to the sets of built-in drawers that ran down the center of the space. Going to the left side and pulling open the top panel, he looked down. His wallet was an unfamiliar artifact from a distant era, and as he opened the flap, he frowned at the driver’s license that was in the little clear plastic window.