Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Maxim cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to intrude, Sire, I know you did not wish to be disturbed. But the oracle wishes to speak with you. She says it’s important.”
Cain felt his lips begin to flatten. “How important?” Because Demetria’s definition of that particular word didn’t always cohere with his own.
“She insisted you will want to hear this.”
Inwardly sighing, Cain finally looked up. “Then I suppose you should escort her to me.”
The aide hesitated. “She doesn’t like the garden, Sire. The snakes make her nervous.”
“I know.”
Maxim’s lips quirked and he shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand why you find people’s fear so amusing.” He turned on his heel and disappeared down the twisting path.
Careful not to step on the serpent now slinking around his feet, Cain crossed to the wrought-iron bench and sat. A white satin moth fluttered past him and settled on the moss-covered wall ruin. Fatal mistake. He could see the head of yet another snake peeking through the wall’s arched, glassless window; it hadn’t failed to notice the insect.
Cain cricked his neck, his mood a little less black than it had been when he first entered the garden. There had been no trigger for the change in his mood. But, then, there never was. It simply happened. And he’d known it would be best for him to not be around others until the dark cloud passed.
The sooner he hit the reboot button, the better. But not until all his ducks were in a row. And definitely not until he’d coaxed Wynter into his bed. It wasn’t as if he could afford to wait. Being mortal, she’d no longer be alive when he next woke. The thought … it bothered him.
He’d never envied mortals their short lifespan. No, they had their own version of immortality—their souls returned again and again. Cain’s kind? Once they were dead, they were dead. And since he had no wish to quite simply cease to exist, he didn’t begrudge the curses of immortality. Especially when Resting gave him a much needed reprieve whenever necessary. The aftermath could be annoying, though—waking to new faces, catching up on all he’d missed, seeing so many changes around him. It could be disorientating.
Well, disoriented was far better than the dark state of mind he continually found himself in lately. Being here helped. Few people ever bothered him when he was in his garden. Mostly because the place wasn’t exactly safe. Nor was it all that welcoming.
A lot of people didn’t understand how he could relax here. Personally, he didn’t understand why bright, attractive gardens were considered peaceful. But then, people tended to equate beauty with goodness when, in truth, the two didn’t always go together.
Soon, Maxim reappeared with the oracle in tow. The tall, Hispanic woman was one of the residents who’d sold her soul to Cain. It was longevity she’d craved, terrified of aging; hating each wrinkle that already lined her face. Really, the red mark on her cheek detracted from the blemishes. It was a mark that said she was Favored by a particular deity. In her case, it was Nemesis. Any witches Favored by Her would receive precognitive visions from the deity, hence why they were referred to as oracles.
Right then, Demetria’s brown gaze nervously darted around. A delicate shudder rushed down her spine as she spotted a python dangling from a thick tree branch.
Cain felt a smile warm his chest. If she had any clue what lived inside him, she would not find those serpents so terrifying in comparison.
Sliding her eyes to him, she bowed slightly. “Sire.”
“Demetria,” he greeted. “What brings you here? For your sake, I hope it truly is as important as you insinuated.”
“It is, I assure you of that.” She waited until Maxim had left before moving closer and adding, “Something … something is wrong.”
“Wrong how?”
“My gift is failing me.” She twiddled her fingers. “I feel that something is coming. I cannot tell if it is good or bad. I see nothing.”
He felt his eyes narrow. “Nothing at all?”
“No. That never happens when there is such urgency behind a feeling I have. A vision always accompanies it.” A shaky breath left her. “I consulted the bones. The reading confirmed that my gut is correct. But still, I see nothing. I believe I am being blocked.”
“By someone here?”
“I do not believe it is a person. More like a presence. A power. It is jamming the frequency of my gift. Purposely.”
He twisted his mouth. He hadn’t sensed any such presence. But then, if something was powerful enough to block an oracle, it was powerful enough to remain undetected. “When was the last time you had a vision of any sort?”
“Six days ago. It was nothing consequential.”
“And this feeling you got that something was coming … when did that hit you?”