Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Bing-bing.
At the cheerful chime, Z took his last slice, tossed the whittled core, and wiped his blade off on a bandana. Then he looked down the hall. Tohr was always early too—
The vault-worthy door swung wide and…
The hair on the back of his neck stood up straight at what was revealed.
Later, he would wonder how he knew. The scent? Some kind of molecular recognition? Or maybe… it was the dog.
There was just something about the way George was pressed right up close to that leather-clad thigh, as if he were steering the male who gripped his harness, instead of walking side by side.
Zsadist never fumbled with his black daggers. He had used them for too long in too many different ways.
For the first time in his life, he dropped his blade.
As the weapon hit one of his shitkickers and bounced off the steel-toed tip, he forgot all about the thing.
“Is it you,” he said softly as he shifted off the stool.
Even though he knew.
“Z.”
Wrath put his free hand out and Zsadist walked forward in a daze, his mind going haywire-crisscross-bonfire.
As he noticed Tohr standing behind the King—the real King—he knew this wasn’t a dream.
So he grabbed Wrath and was grabbed in return. Somehow, the great Blind King…
… was back from the dead.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As Nate fell to his knees, time slowed to a crawl and Nalla parallel processed everything about the alley, from where the two of them were to the burn mark on the pavement to the lesser who’d been shot in the chest.
And still managed to pull his own trigger.
Nate’s voice was weak. “You have to go—save… your—”
The slayer’s eyes slanted up at her from where the thing had fallen face down on the pavement, and the smile that tilted up its lips was pure hatred—as it recalibrated the gun in its hand at Nate.
Whose own sternum was a perfect target.
Nalla blinked once. And sprang forward in one, two, three strides.
With the fourth, she angled her foot to go soccer ball on the gun. Just as the lesser pulled that trigger again—
She missed. She fucking missed the kick.
And the bullet went directly into Nate’s heart.
As he barked an exhale and fell to the side, she tripped while wrenching around, and she was never going to forget what she saw… Nate focused on her and her alone as blood came out of his mouth and he landed with the bounce of a dead body on the dirty snow.
A sound came out of her like no noise she had ever made before, and she saw nothing, just a white plane of rage. Baring her teeth, she launched herself at the lesser, going for the hand that gripped that gun.
She was unaware of biting the wrist until she tasted something foul in her mouth, and she didn’t even think about what she did next. She bent the elbow with her free hand, turned the barrel into the slayer’s face, and forced her finger into the trigger guard.
The bullet entered through the bridge of the nose and the body seized on a oner, all the muscles contracting in sync, a spray of black blood and gray matter blowing out the back of the skull. No fucking around this time. With a sweeping plunge, she swung her right arm downward and stabbed him through the back.
It wasn’t enough.
Oh, God, what if there were more slayers, what if there was backup, what if—
Her strength doubled, and she peeled the lesser off the snow by the sleeve of his jacket, rolling him over with a jerk. Even though her hunting instinct swelled until it took the place of what was normally in her veins, she didn’t look into the white face of her prey.
Her eyes were on Nate.
As she stabbed the center of the slayer’s torso, she was blinded by the light and momentarily stunned by a blast of bus-exhaust smoke.
But then she crawled through the dissipating heat. “Oh, God, Nate…”
His voice was just a croak. “Don’t call for anyone—”
“Are you out of your mind—”
“—I just need a minute—”
“—you’re bleeding to death!”
“—I’m not bleeding to death!”
As they both got to the finish line at the same time, Nalla was done with the arguing. Glancing up and down the alley, there didn’t seem to be any other lessers. And what humans were around were way out on the sidewalk of Market Street. And there was no monitoring by the city’s crime prevention systems in this irrelevant alley or windows for people with prying eyes and phones.
Thank fuck.
Getting out her cell, she tried not to drop it with her shaking hands—
Nate snatched the thing from her and smashed it on the pavement.
“What the hell is wrong with you!” she barked. “We need help—”
“No—gimme a minute. No… matter what… happens… just…”
He started coughing, and as blood came out of his mouth and speckled his chin, she jumped up. But where was she running to?