Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 154735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
“You are the one who saved him,” she said stiffly. “When the demon attacked.”
“So you were watching us. I thought I sensed something.”
She did not look away from the images upon the television. The idea that a square of glass could project a moving picture all the way up here on the mountain from downtown was incredible. Indeed, she had been told it was all over the world.
“You don’t belong here, do you,” the angel said.
“Neither do you,” she countered.
“Touché.” He was opening another, different bag now, the crinkling loud in her ears in the silence. “Mind if I ask you how long you’ve known Lassiter?”
“If you’ll excuse me”—she rose—“I think I’m going to—”
He caught her wrist. “Sit. Down.”
In the tense pause, she wondered what he would do if she resisted.
“I’m here to take him away,” came the grim voice. “So if you want him to have a chance at staying, you’re going to have to explain to me why you care about where he’s at, one way or another.”
Now she met the burgundy stare of the angel. So this was why Lassiter had told her goodbye, the cause of his leaving. And she wasn’t fooled. How she felt about him would not matter one bit with regard to his destiny.
“Let go of me,” she said in a low growl. “I do not do well with males who seek to confine me, and I would hate my wrath to be expressed in this place of peace.”
Instantly, the hand released. “You don’t belong here.”
“You said that before and I have not denied it.”
“You are… young and old by turns.” The male eased back in the chair and peered into the bag, as if hunting for the most perfectly formed, triangle-shaped, orange-dusted Doritos. “It’s quite curious.”
He was right, of course. She was nine and twenty years… and also nearly two centuries old.
“Why are you taking Lassiter and where to?” she asked.
“Sit down and I’ll tell you. Or you can leave, and I’ll follow you. FYI, the first choice is your better outcome.”
Rahvyn slowly lowered herself back into the molded plastic chair. “Answer my question.”
“Where are you from?” The angel popped another chip in his mouth and the crunch as he chewed it was muffled. “And if you say the Old Country, I’m going to conveniently forget all the details about what my mission is, and wouldn’t that be a loss to you. Given how curious you are about the Lassiter situation.”
“I do not believe I care for you.”
Those eyes flashed to hers. “The feeling is mutual.”
At that, he shook the bag, leaned back, and poured whatever was left of the contents directly into his mouth. When he righted his head, the way he cocked his brow in expectation was as grating as his line of inquiry.
“I am from the year eighteen hundred thirty-three,” she snapped. “If we’re using the human calendar.”
There was a split second of assessment. Then he nodded. “That explains it.”
“Now, where are you taking him.”
“Out of this time. You must know all about that kind of thing, huh.”
Next up on his menu list was a bag of chocolate M&M’s, and he opened the little pouch with a quick rip.
His stare narrowed on her. “Speaking of time, in about five minutes, one of the Brothers is going to come down here to get you. They’re going to take you to Lassiter.”
“So you arrived here wanting to vet me in some fashion, is that it?”
“You bet your bippy it is. ’Scuse my French.”
“You are… a friend of his then?”
He laughed in a short rush and poured some of the colorful confections out in his palm. As he shook his head ruefully, he muttered, “I just don’t get the new colors. Like blue? And now purple? ’Course, they still taste the same.”
“Are you? A friend?”
“I don’t know if that’s quite the term I’d use. I am not his enemy, for sure, and I care about his well-being. Let’s face it, he’s… very important in the scheme of things. And that’s why I’m curious about you, a female throwing around healing energy like that? Kind of miraculous. Kind of dangerous. It goes either way with you, doesn’t it.”
As his eyes locked on her in a knowing fashion, Rahvyn looked back at the TV. The reporting had switched to a broad swath of linked-up purveyors of goods, a mall, she had been told it was called. A woman in a red coat was in focus and gesturing theatrically, next to a glass entrance that was shattered.
It appeared to be a night for things getting broken: Brick walls, store windows. Lassiter’s skull.
“Is that why you endangered yourself to protect him from Devina?” she said. “Because he is important?”
“Yes.”
“Well, he is important to me as well, and that is why I was there.”
A slow smile eased the tension in the bold features of the male’s face. “For two people who don’t like each other, I guess we have him in common.”