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)
The streets were dangerous, after all—
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Shuli stopped. Closed his eyes. Reflected on how, out of all the voices in the world, there was only one other he’d rather not hear as much. But unlike him, Nate had been permanently suspended instead of only out for a week, so it was not his former best friend.
But naturally, because fate was a fucker who liked to knee him in the balls, that meant that—
“L.W.” He turned around. “Fancy meeting you here.”
The heir apparent was standing in the middle of the side street like his shitkickers were the canine equivalent of a piss stream: This Is Mine. And you had to give the big, nasty fucker his due. The impact of his physical presence was enough to make anybody think to themselves that an about-face and some Nike action were a great idea.
“You’re suspended.”
“You know,” Shuli said, “it’s always so great to see you. A real kick in the pants. You’re just a mood lifter, vibe shifter, in a good-wood kinda way.”
L.W. started closing the distance, those size sixteens of his crushing through the ice pack that hadn’t given way under Shuli’s weight. Then again, if your bones were made of tungsten and your blood of lead, the ground yielded.
Everything yielded.
Up close, that hard, perfectly proportioned face reminded you of the father. Big Wrath had the same cruel cast to what would otherwise be seen as standard glymera-handsome fare, and the young one, whose eyes you could see, had a green gaze that was cold as stone. With lips that were a slash of aggression, and a jaw that was an invitation to fuck-around-and-find-out, really, most people wanted to leave the guy alone.
Kinda like you would if a T. rex gave you the option to run.
“Get outta here,” L.W. said.
“I’m just out for a walk.” Shuli skipped in place. “Fresh air does wonders for a person’s disposition. You should try it sometime—you never know, you could turn over a new leaf and try smiling for once.”
“Why do you even do this.”
“Attempt to help you improve your attitude? I mean, I don’t know. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“You are a total waste of training and resources.”
“No.” Shuli held up his forefinger. “I’m annoying you deliberately, and you hate that it works. I don’t mind being called an asshole, but let’s be accurate about the reason why, shall we—”
In perfect coordination, they both spun to the left, outed their guns, and squeezed off two bullets apiece.
Their next move was equally in sync. With a twist and jump back, they took cover in an inset doorway.
“—and not hide behind petty defensive insults,” Shuli finished as he sniffed the air.
Going by the stink, the lesser was about thirty feet away, hiding in the shadows of a cut-through between a rooming house and an abandoned nail parlor—
A head popped around the corner. It was a female, with her hair in rows of braids and a couple of piercings in her face.
“Dematerialize,” L.W. hissed. “Just get out of here, will ya?”
Shuli glared back at the guy. “No.”
“Yes.”
Making a show of being dizzy, Shuli went limp and leaned back into the panels behind them. “I can’t possibly. I’m too scared and distracted to—”
The rotted panel splintered under his weight and he fell back into darkness. As a hard landing ricocheted through his skull and rendered him legitimately struck stupid, all he heard was a litany of swearing.
Then there was another brief exchange of fire, bullets pinging around, sparks like stars in the sky—or in Shuli’s suddenly not-so-hot vision.
Fucking… wonderful.
And he’d thought wrecking his car was the worst thing that could happen this week.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
So this is pillow talk, Nalla thought.
As she and Nate lay side by side in his bed under the covers, their faces were nose to nose, eye to eye. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been like this, and she didn’t really care. Time felt like forever, and in the back of her mind, she told herself to soak this in. When they parted, she had a feeling that it was going to seem like only a minute or two.
And maybe she’d once again question whether it had happened at all.
She needed a pillow-on-the-floor equivalent—and guessed it was going to be all the delicious places she was aching.
“I can make you some food,” he offered in a drowsy voice. “If you’re hungry.”
“Sounds great.” Then again, he could have volunteered to give her a chemical peel or a dental exam and she would have awesome’d either one. “I can help, though.”
“We’ll do it together.”
And then they didn’t move.
“Thanks for putting me in touch with Amore. I’ve wanted a tattoo for ages.” She’d already told him this. Why was she babbling? “I already told you that.”
Well, she was babbling because it felt safer than telling him what was really on her mind: She was wondering when she would be back here with him—and she hadn’t even left yet. Which made her a stalker, didn’t it.