The Wicked in Me (Devil’s Cradle #1) Read Online Suzanne Wright

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Witches Tags Authors: Series: Devil's Cradle Series by Suzanne Wright
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Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
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Hattie awkwardly exited the car, looking all stiff and frail. It was a total act. She wasn’t quite as harmless as she liked to appear. That said, you were safe with the darling woman as long as you didn’t attack her or marry her. She’d killed every one of her husbands. She was the group’s very own black widow.

Rubbing nervously at her arm, Anabel crossed to Wynter and the others, looking upon the manor with sheer dread. But then, pretty much everything made the blonde nervous. She was most in her element when in the kitchen making potions, where she wasn’t required to interact with anyone. “So this is where we die,” she said, her voice solemn.

Delilah sighed. “You say that almost wherever we go. We’re not going to—oh my God, what is that smell?”

Anabel lifted her chin. “Farting is a normal bodily function.”

“Not if it smells like something died up your ass.”

“I don’t handle ethnic food well.”

Wafting his hand, Xavier grimaced. “Just please don’t unload anymore of those farts until we’re away from the Ancient.”

Anabel sniffed. “You’re all so dramatic.”

Delilah snickered. “You’d know all about that, Miss So This is Where We Die.”

The blonde pointed at her nape. “I can feel death’s breath on the back of my neck. I know that feeling all too well. And maybe if you remembered all your past deaths, you’d be a little more understanding.”

Groaning, Wynter raised a hand. “All right, let’s stop there.”

Anabel often saw her potential demise everywhere—the paranoia came from her soul’s ability to retain memories and skills from past lives. When you recalled every death, you also remembered just how easily life could be snatched right from under you.

None of the crew were entirely sure if she was in fact the reincarnation of Bloody Mary or if she simply believed it because she’d experimented on herself with one too many of her potions over the years. Whatever the case, if you called for Mary, Anabel’s demeanor would change in an instant and she’d happily kill anything standing in her path.

“In case you’ve all forgotten, we have somewhere we need to be.” Wynter exhaled heavily. “Fingers crossed this goes well.”

She walked to the porch, unable to fully admire the ornate trim work and gingerbread cutouts while her gut was in knots. A lot rode on whatever happened next. As Delilah had pointed out, they had no Plan B.

Reaching the door, Wynter pressed the bell. Close-up, she could see that the stained-glass pane depicted mythical scenes of some sort. Nice work.

Finally, the door opened. She’d expected a butler. The dude in front of her was rugged and masculine with an outlaw-warrior vibe. Gargoyle, she sensed. He wasn’t Wynter’s type, but he was definitely hot.

Patting her faded red hair, Hattie smiled up at him. “You look just like the highlander on the cover of a book I read recently. Do you know what anilingus is?”

Wynter felt her eyes drift closed. Unfuckingreal. It didn’t help that Xavier had choked on a laugh, or that a silently chuckling Delilah was leaning against Wynter as if unable to support her own weight.

Clearing her throat, Wynter opened her eyes and cast the man in front of her an apologetic smile. “Just pretend they’re not there. I often do.”

He grunted, moved aside, and waved them in with a sweep of his arm.

Stepping into a very grand hallway, she saw that the Old World feel continued inside the manor with its high, vaulted ceilings, carved columns, ornate lighting, imperial staircase, and decorative moldings. Wow.

“All of you wait here,” the gargoyle instructed.

Wynter nodded and watched him stalk away, wondering just which of the Ancients she’d find herself facing. She then turned to Hattie. “Haven’t we told you not to ask strangers sex-related questions?”

“I just want to know what this anilingus thing is,” said Hattie, all innocence. “He was a strapping man, so I’m sure he’s popular with the ladies—he seemed like a good source of information.” She pointed at the page of her book again. “I’m thinking it’s possibly back-door finger-fun.”

Back-door finger fun? Seriously?

“More like tongue-fun,” said Xavier, a smirk playing around the edges of his mouth.

Hattie’s hazel eyes went wide. “Ooh, really? My, my, my. Do people wear tongue protection when they do that?”

Wynter sighed and scrubbed a hand down her face. They were all whacked. Every one of them.

*

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Cain flicked a look at Azazel and reminded him, “I rarely joke.”

“I thought you were just in a bad mood because you had to fire one of your aides. I know you have no patience for conducting interviews.”

Cain sighed and crossed to the vintage liquor cabinet. “Firing him was probably an overreaction on my part, but my mind isn’t in a good place right now. I’ve been awake too long. I haven’t Rested in over five centuries, and I’m feeling the sting of it.”


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