Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Behind him, the toolbox slid back into place, and he heard the catch of the copper lock. Glancing up, the steel mesh that covered the ceiling and the walls shimmered, and there was a flap of it that could be secured over the opening of the stairs.
That wolven was a damned mastermind.
Within moments, the resonant silence became as dense as the earth itself, and eventually, the shower in the tiled corner drew his eyes and held them.
As he went toward it, he passed by all the jackets that were hung on pegs—and stopped halfway down the lineup. Glancing around, even though he was alone, he leaned into one of the down coats that was camouflaged to look like leaves. His nostrils flared as he breathed in, and the scent that registered was a spice that he had done his best to shut out.
Except who was he hiding from down here?
Closing his eyes, he drew the wolven’s scent deep into his lungs and held it there. Something about the combination of spruce and fresh air made him feel warm under his skin—and like he could have happily blown ten or fifteen years of his life just standing at the parka and inhaling through his nose.
But because that was pathetic, even with no witnesses, he forced himself to keep going down the aisle that was formed by all the supplies. As he went along, he took off the guard’s uniform, starting with the gun belt, which he tossed on one of the cots. The bloodstained shirt was next, then the boots and the pants. He let it all fall wherever it did, noting that if the clothes had been his, even if it had just been that tunic and loose pants, he would have treated them better out of habit.
Fuck those guards, though, even if it was only the uniform of a dead one.
By the time he got to the showerhead, he was buck-ass naked and braced for cold water and rotgut soap. Reaching to the handle, he—
The instant he made contact with the stainless steel, an electric shock went through him and he saw the dead, like a hologram overlapping reality. It was a male… hanging from the bolted-in fixture above, a brown belt around his throat… his naked body against the tiled wall, his legs extended straight out at an angle with no bend at the knees… the heels planted on the floor, the toes fanned out.
The eyes were open in the gray, frozen face, the dark-blond hair falling over the forehead, over the shoulders.
With a hiss, Apex retracted his hand and shook his head.
When he looked back again, the vision was gone—and stayed gone as he tried again to turn the water on.
Pivoting away, he put his back to where the body had been and set about clearing his mind by letting his head fall into the cold spray. When the temperature started to warm, he was so surprised, he stepped out and double-checked that everything was working. It was.
He put his palm out.
“Oh…”
The warmth was enticing, and he thought how fucked up it was that even though he had been involved in multiple skirmishes with armed weapons tonight, as well as a car accident, an amputation, and topped that off just now with a dead body sighting… he was scared of getting back under the rush.
One thing he had learned was that it was easier to stay uncomfortable.
What hurt was when you let your guard down, and then had to reenter hell.
The burn on reentry was never, ever worth whatever eased you.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Over here! Quick!”
Just as Kane was losing his mind, as he’d decided that Nadya had been picked up by a second set of guards, or had run off for safety because she was horrified by what he’d done out in front of the cabin, just as he was about to run out into the gathering dawn to try to find her—
The urgent male voice wheeled him around sure as if he were a puppet.
Callum, the wolven, was peeking out of a panel in the floor. “Come on! I got to get out of here. I have no more time than you do.”
Kane scrambled across the rough floorboards like he was being chased, and as he hit the stairs that had been revealed, the wolven traded places, jumping free of some kind of subterranean hideout.
“I’ll be back at dusk,” the male said as he slammed shut the panel.
Bump, bump bumpbumpbump.
Kane didn’t pay much attention to the wolven running off overhead. He only cared about skidding down the steps. As he bottomed out on his butt, he looked up and saw the only thing that mattered at the moment: Across a shockingly well-kitted-out interior, on a sofa that was strewn with fluffy pillows, Nadya was sitting up at attention, her hands gripping her hood and robes, her body trembling.