From the Grave – The Arcana Chronicles Read Online Kresley Cole

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Young Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
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Circe was barefoot, wearing a baggy overcoat, her dark skin damp. Though she looked like she could hardly stand, she held a sleeping Tee, his cheek pressed against hers.

I hissed, “He might be lethal.”

She raised her brows, her expression saying, Like I’d care? “There’s no Touch of Death here.”

“He’s not deadly?”

She stroked his forehead. “And here I thought you were rushing to save him from me.”

I gave her the look her comment deserved. “You’re his godmother!”

“Shhhhh.” The sound reminded me of gentle waves at the shore. “Don’t wake him.” She tilted her head at me. “Genuine distress? Such a change from previous games. Maybe in this one, you won’t chain me up in a basement, in order to murder me at a more convenient time.”

I rolled my eyes.

She cuddled Tee closer. “I’m so happy to meet this little imp.” Though her words were faint, they carried an island accent.

“His birth didn’t do as you’d hoped. Nothing changed.”

She shrugged. “I was trying to make you feel better about things.”

Aric sprinted into the room, spurs ringing, sword raised. He stopped short. “You’re touching him.”

Amusement flickered in her weary eyes. “Yes, he’s a snuggly fellow.” Tee was, in fact, blissfully snuggled in Circe’s arms.

Aric exhaled a breath. “His power might manifest with adolescence, as mine did.”

Circe said, “He has Arcana blood, but he’s not an Arcana. I know this as well as I know my own reflection.”

Then he wasn’t any kind of player in the game. Tension melted from me.

Aric’s eyes glowed as he stared at Tee. “He’s not . . . as I am?”

“I heard you two talking about him not being able to touch anyone, and I refused to have my godson besmirched like that.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Then you knew there was a possibility he could kill you.”

“There was also the likelihood that he couldn’t. We’re always so afraid of rare possibilities that we ignore probabilities.” When she swayed on her feet, my vines shot forward to collect Tee from her.

He snuffled, put out to leave Circe’s arms, but the vines rocked him until he settled. As they laid him back in the crib, I hurried to her side to steady her.

Aric asked her, “What are you doing here, Priestess?”

Leaning against me, she said, “I left my echoing abyss.”

The full weight of her presence hit me. Dear God, the Priestess had come to land.

26

The Hunter

Day 802 A.F.

Two militias, one raving-mad band of doomsday cannibals, and at least three hundred Bagmen later, we closed in on Kos’s hideout.

Gabe’s wings fluttered with excitement. “I earnestly hope we discover something here.”

I clenched the steering wheel. “Me too.” This place gave new meaning to the phrase out in the middle of nowhere.

Before her death, I’d asked Kos if there’d be any antipersonnel mines or other booby traps. She’d said, “No need. If you find the hangar, you deserve it. Door’ll be unlocked.”

Even Joules was excited. “Never thought we’d survive to see this place! Took us donkey’s years to get here.”

Just over two months. But as I’d reminded him whenever he complained: We got nothing better to do.

On the road, we’d shared details about our lives. Learning about the crew kept me from going crazy as I remained away from Evie and Tee.

Last week, I’d asked the guys, “What do you miss most about the pre-Flash world?”

“My home country,” Sol had answered. “My parents used to take me to the Spanish seaside when I was a boy. I miss the smell of sand and salt water warmed by the sun. There’s nothing like it.”

Gabriel had said, “I miss blue skies. I never knew people called them bluebird skies. I like that very much.”

“Of course you would, birdbrain,” Joules said without any heat.

“It sounds heavenly. Do you think we will see another blue sky in our lifetimes?”

Even as I’d nodded and said, “You know it,” I was thinking, We might not. . . . I’d glanced over my shoulder at Joules. “What about you, Tower?”

“Me mam’s apple cake. I swear, mother’s love or something was in the damned recipe. You could feel it.” He’d seemed embarrassed that he’d shared so much. “Your turn, Tarch.”

Kentarch had answered, “The sound of my wife’s laughter.” Though he never smiled, his solemn expression had eased as he’d clearly recalled a memory. “She always gave herself up to it. I found it impossible not to laugh alongside her.” Difficult to imagine Kentarch laughing out loud.

He’d turned to me. “And you, hunter? What do you miss? Aside from the obvious.”

“I always wanted out of Louisiana. Now I miss everything about it.” But I didn’t just want the home I’d lost—I wanted Evie and Tee. It’d only gotten worse after she’d texted me a pic of her with the baby.

Once I’d recovered from the sight of the two of them—I think my heart lurched in my chest—I’d noticed two things. Tee would be the spitting image of his father. And Evie’s hair was turning red.


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