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)
Delilah’s brows lifted. “You do?”
“Nope, not even a little,” he replied.
She flapped her arms. “Then why say it?”
“Maybe your indignation makes me feel energized.”
The two bickered as they all left the plaza and began a leisurely walk to the manor. Wynter’s step faltered as a light breeze fluttered over her skin, alerting her to … something. Instinct made her glance at a wooded area not too far away.
Delilah nudged her with her elbow. “You okay?”
Wynter slowed to a halt. “Yes. And no.”
“What does that mean?” asked Anabel.
“It means that someone—maybe even multiple someones—is hiding in those trees over there,” said Wynter, rolling her shoulders. “I say we go find out why.”
*
Cain looked up from his plate as Azazel breezed into the dining room, his brow furrowed. Anyone else might have been sheepish about interrupting someone’s dinner, but not Azazel. The Ancient had zero time for manners unless it suited him.
“Something wrong?” asked Cain.
“Wrong?” Azazel rubbed at his nape. “I’m not yet sure. But I’m certainly confused.”
“About?”
“One of my aides, Bowen, is missing. No one has seen him since yesterday. I sent people to find him. One thought that maybe he was keeping Annette company, since both berserkers would be grieving her father, so he went to her house in search of him. Bowen wasn’t there. Neither was she, and many of her possessions are gone.”
Lowering his cutlery to his mostly empty plate, Cain poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “I knew she hadn’t opened the blacksmith’s shop today. I thought she was merely taking time off work to grieve.” He lightly touched her soul. “She’s definitely not dead. I feel her. But the connection is … weak.”
Azazel nodded, taking the seat opposite. “My link to Bowen is just as weak. As if something is dulling it. I don’t know what could possibly do that. In any case, it seems as though she not only left, she took him with her. His belongings aren’t missing, but it could be that he caught her leaving and impulsively decided to go with her, or maybe he wasn’t bothered about any of the shit he’s left behind. Aside from the rights to his soul that I own, of course.”
“The usual reason for a resident to sneakily leave is very simply that they did something they shouldn’t have.”
Azazel hummed. “Maybe Annette messed up somehow, or maybe after Grouch died she was scared she’d be next. Scared that you might decide to slit the throat of anyone who ever pissed Wynter off. Didn’t you say that Annette and Grouch once threatened to ruin her business?”
Cain nodded. “I made it very clear that—”
A knock came at the door.
“Yes?” Cain called out.
Maxim stepped inside. “Sire, Dantalion sent an envoy with a message. Two male witches apparently appeared outside the gates of the manor. One claimed they needed to speak with both you and Wynter.”
Cain felt the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch. “Is that a fact? Who?”
“I’m not sure, he allegedly wouldn’t say more than that,” Maxim replied. “Dantalion granted them entry and placed them in the blue parlor. He thought you might like to be the one to question them.”
The Ancient was right to presume so.
“It has to be people from Aeon, right?” asked Azazel.
“That would be my guess,” said Cain. “Maxim, I need you to bring Wynter to the Keep. I’m not sure where exactly she is, but I have to consider that the male witches didn’t come here alone; that they could be a distraction. If so, others will no doubt look for her. They’ll jump at the chance to take her.”
Maxim gave a curt nod. “I will find her.”
“Also send some people to search the town for strangers. If any are found, detain them. They’ll be permitted to leave providing they attack no one.”
“Understood, Sire.”
Satisfied, Cain made his way upstairs.
Following him, Azazel asked, “Did Wynter ever mention a male witch to you?”
“No.” If either of the visitors turned out to be an ex-boyfriend of hers, they wouldn’t be getting anywhere near her. Especially when it was highly likely that both males were here on behalf of the Aeons or, at the very least, her old coven.
Cain and Azazel used the chamber’s mirror to quickly transport themselves to the manor. They then made their way to what had been branded the blue parlor due to the teal painted walls.
Dantalion sat at the piano, his fingers gliding deftly over the keys, playing “The Music of the Night” from Phantom of the Opera. He didn’t stop when Cain entered. He barely even looked up, apparently already bored of the situation. His aide stood behind him, silent and still.
Cain settled his attention on the two men sitting stiffly on the sofa. They couldn’t have been more opposite in terms of appearance. One was broad, dark, and heavily muscled. The other was lean and gangly with pale blond hair. “Just who might you both be?”