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
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
<<<<334351525354556373>132
Advertisement2


That was when the soldiers appeared.

There were dozens of them up ahead. Some held swords while others raised a hand that glowed with magick.

“Begin!” yelled Bowen.

The soldiers swarmed them mega fast.

Wynter and Xavier both whipped up their swords and parried the blow that came their way. Delilah lunged, shifting from a domestic cat to a huge monstrous feline and knocking a soldier down, digging her iron claws into his chest. Hattie raked her talons on the face of another soldier, making him stagger backwards and crash into his compatriots. Anabel/Mary … well, she just laughed like a loon and beheaded the nearest soldier.

The five of them battled their way through the gauntlet. Wynter, Xavier, and Anabel/Mary sliced, feinted, parried, ducked, and twisted. They moved fast. Fluid. Smooth. Flowed with the fight. Like it was a dance.

At the same time, the crow and cat pounced and bit and raked at the soldiers like savages. The two animals dodged swords, fists, and feet. While the cat also needed to evade any magickal blows, the crow had no such need. Any such hits bounced right off her and rebounded back at her attacker—Hattie negated magick with her very being whenever she was in her crow form.

Wynter impaled one soldier on her sword while Xavier slit the throat of another. The men collapsed to the floor. He knelt and slammed his hands on their stomachs as he began to chant. Their backs arched, their eyes flew open, and then they were up … running at the soldiers.

Her body balanced and her muscles loose, Wynter fought on. Like Xavier and Anabel/Mary, she also lashed out with her magick—dazing, burning, whipping, or knocking people down. Of course, she was careful not to go full throttle. She couldn’t slam her foot down on the magickal pedal here and now.

The air whistled as the swords slashed through it again and again. Blades clanged. Voices cursed. Magick crackled. The cat roared. The crow shrieked and flapped its wings.

Wynter hissed as a blade caught her side. Jesus fuck. She didn’t make the mistake of angrily lunging and thrusting her sword. She didn’t need to anyway—he drew back as the crow dipped down and stabbed an eyeball with her beak, yanking it right out of the socket.

His cry of agony died an abrupt death as Anabel/Mary disemboweled him. The woman was in her element as she hacked through the soldiers, giggling and dancing and high-fiving thin air. Her newest victim, like most of the others, was soon back on his feet courtesy of Xavier and then joined their rapidly growing army.

It wasn’t long before Wynter and her crew were approaching the finish line. Which was a goddamn relief, because the throbbing wound in her side was deep, and the blood loss was not helping matters.

The sight of the finish line seemed to fuel the others, because they charged with renewed vigor. The soldiers backed up under the pressure of the assault. One by one, they went down until only a single soldier remained. He hit the ground hard as Delilah landed on his chest with a roar. Wynter brought down her sword and sliced off his head … before promptly kicking it out of the ditch. It sailed through the air and landed at Bowen’s feet, splattering the sand with blood. The head then winked out of existence.

Pure silence fell as everyone simply stared at Wynter and her crew. Then came the applause.

Panting and sweating, she turned to the others and said, “Let’s get out of this goddamn ditch.”

“Yeah, let’s.” Xavier severed whatever connection he had to the soldiers he’d raised from the dead, and they fell to the floor like sacks of spuds.

The moment she slid out from under the ropes, her wounds disappeared, her pain faded, and the blood and mess cleared from her skin and clothing. She glanced at the others, realizing it was the same for them … and that one of them was missing.

Wynter looked down into the ditch, sighing. Anabel/Mary had put the hilt of her sword to a dead soldier’s mouth as if it were a microphone and was singing, “Man down, man down, man down.”

Calling out ‘Anabel’ earned her no response, so Wynter shouted, “Mary, leave him.”

The blonde’s head snapped up. She looked about to object but then pouted. “Fine.” She casually hacked off a soldier’s leg as she made her way out of the ditch.

Back in her human form, Delilah smiled at her and said, “Night, night, Mary.”

The key phrase made the blonde pout again. “No fair.” Her blue eyes cleared so that they were once more normal, and Anabel went stiff as a board. “Is it over?” she asked, glancing around her.

“It’s over,” said Hattie, now human.

Anabel bit her lower lip. “She didn’t drink anyone’s blood again, did she? I don’t taste any.”


Advertisement3

<<<<334351525354556373>132

Advertisement4