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)
Fort rubbed at his bearded jaw. “Did you find a way to get down there?”
Cletus shook his head. “I’m not even sure where the entrance is.”
Fort’s brother and fellow asshole, Milos, propped his fists on his hips. “We could try and pay off a local to lure her out here to us.”
Fort dismissed that idea with a puff of sound. “They won’t do us any favors. Not for any amount of money. It’s best that we lay low and remain undetected.”
“We don’t have to say we’re from Aeon,” said Milos. “We could claim to be bounty hunters or something.”
“A lot of people here are probably on the run, so I doubt hunters would be welcome in a place like this.” Fort scratched at his head. “Lailah did warn us it wouldn’t be easy to find Wynter, so I don’t think we need to worry that she’ll lose her mind if we return without her. Not as long as we’re successful at mapping out the town as best we can. She said she wants the location of every nook, every cranny, every blind spot.”
Delilah softly cursed. “The Aeons are preparing to invade the town, huh?”
“Looks like it,” said Wynter, listening as Fort barked orders to each of the keepers. “And these bastards are gonna simplify it for them. I can’t say I’m down with that.”
Xavier looked at her, his eyes bright. “Can we kill them?”
“It’s that or let them run back home with information that we don’t want the Aeons to possess so, yeah, we can kill them,” said Wynter.
He flashed her a slow grin and conjured his sword. “Just what I wanted to hear.”
Looking similarly pleased, Hattie and Delilah shifted into their animal forms. The crow settled on top of the monstrous cat, who flexed its iron claws. Both women could also fight with magick, but they preferred using their animal forms since it meant that their senses, reflexes, strength, and speed were enhanced.
Wynter lifted a brow at Anabel. “Are you joining the fight or waiting here?”
A sword materialized in the blonde’s hand, which answered the question.
Wynter called to her own blade and then placed her mouth near Anabel’s ear. “Mary, Mary, please come out,” she quietly sang.
The blonde’s demeanor changed in an instant, switching from nervous to eager as her eyes took on that familiar not-so-sane light.
“No drinking blood,” Wynter told her.
Anabel/Mary nodded, a feral smile splitting her lips. “Understood.”
Conscious that she couldn’t allow her monster free rein right now, Wynter silently assured it that the keepers would die, relieved when it didn’t push for supremacy.
“Fort’s mine,” Wynter told her crew. “Okay … now.” Pumped full of anticipation, she rushed out of the woods with the others at her heels.
Taken off-guard, it took the keepers a moment to react. But, highly trained as they were, they sprung to attention fast and raised their weapons.
She made a swift beeline for Fort, but freaking Cletus came at her from another angle, forcing her to turn to him. She blocked the sword that swung her way, and their blades clanged.
Sneering, he danced backwards. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Clearly not hard enough,” she said. “I found you first.”
They parried and thrust over and over. She didn’t need to worry about the Ancients or townspeople watching her fight, so she didn’t check her speed; didn’t hold back magickly or otherwise. He staggered backwards under the pressure, unprepared for the rigor with which she flew at him. He fell on his butt, and she wasted no time in skewering him with her sword.
Milos came into view and sent balls of blue light sailing at her—one clipped her shoulder, the other smashed into her chest. Pretty they might be, but they also hit like a goddamn hammer, bruising her for sure.
She retaliated with her own magick, hurling dark smoky spiked orbs right at his fucking head—orbs he annoyingly managed to evade. Swords raised, they went at each other. They ducked and twisted and deflected, cursing and snarling.
Around her, her crew battled hard. Dead keepers were up and running, fighting the live keepers. Roars, cries, grunts, squawks, the clashing of steel, and the insanity-laced giggles of Anabel/Mary filled the air.
Wynter hissed as Milos’s blade stabbed her smarting shoulder. His brows snapped together when the runes had no effect on her. Yeah, well, there was something he didn’t know, and she saw no need to educate him about it.
Although a wet warmth pooled on her skin and soaked her tee, she didn’t look at the wound. She kept swiping out with her sword, aiming for every weak spot, ensuring her every strike was precise.
He twisted his hips and kicked out at her stomach. Missed. Growled. Charged.
She ducked and came up on his side, thrusting her sword deep. He stumbled, his lips parting in both shock and pain, and then dropped to his knees. She swung her sword, beheading him … and smirked at Fort as she did so.