Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Alexi starts to close the door, but Caz plants a firm hand on it, pushing it back open.
“Lead me to Manx,” he demands.
“You know, you’ll get nothing in life by making every demand of yours sound like a threat.” Alexi looks Caz up and down, and I step around Caz to stand next to him.
“Alexi, I’m really sorry to interrupt your sleep like this.” I grip Caz’s arm and lower it, taking his hand off the door. Alexi stands taller, giving a smug smile. I hear a growl in Caz’s throat but ignore it. “Manx told us to come and see him. It’s important, otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Do you think you can get him for us?”
Alexi is still staring at Caz, both of them having a stare down. When he finally snatches his gaze away, he drops his eyes to mine. “Anything for you, Willow.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Give me a moment.”
Alexi closes the door and I glance at Caz, who shakes his head and moves away from the door. “Wish you’d stop kissing his ass,” he mutters.
“I’m not kissing his ass,” I counter. “But he’s right. Demanding people to do things won’t help you.”
“Don’t believe that. It’s helped me thus far. People listen when demands are made.”
“Probably because they’re afraid you’ll blow their heads off.”
“Alexi would be afraid too if he weren’t in this bloody territory.”
Just as he speaks his name, Alexi walks out of the room, tugging a shirt over his head and pulling it over his sculpted belly. I pretend I don’t notice as he moves from behind the bar counter and says, “Follow me.”
I follow him first, and Caz reluctantly does as well. He leads us out of the inn, where the stars twinkle in the sky and a cool breeze floats by. The air smells like sweet honeysuckle and fresh cut grass, and I understand why people enjoy staying here. If we weren’t in such a hurry, I’d stop a moment and drink it all in.
Alexi strides along a cobblestone street that has grass prodding between the cracks, passing several cottages until he approaches one made of brown bricks and surrounded by low hanging trees.
The trees are green and plush, and a thin, stoned trail leads to the front door of the house. The windows of the cottage are tall and rectangular with green vines winding up to the roof.
We walk past waist-high bushes that are trimmed neatly, as well as flower beds. I’ve never seen these kinds of flowers before, bursting in yellows and blues. Alexi approaches the door and gives it a knock before planting his hands at his waist.
Caz and I wait a few steps back as footsteps drum through the house and the door is pulled open. Manx appears on the other side, dressed in tan linen, his white hair glossy. There’s a brush in his hands and a soft smile on his lips.
Alexi opens his mouth, but Manx holds a hand up. “I know what this is about.” His eyes land on Caz and me. “Come inside, you two. I’ll see what I can do.”
Thirty-Nine
CAZ
“Why didn’t you tell me this would happen sooner?” I turn away from the window, focusing on Manx. “You could’ve told me in the library when you saw me.”
“I wasn’t sure if it would happen.”
“How did you know it would at all?”
“As I told you, I’ve studied the Cold Tether. Black veins are always a symptom.”
“You seem to know a lot,” I grumble.
“Years and years of studying, my boy.”
I look out the window again. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I don’t feel safe in Whisper Grove anymore, despite the security rules.
“If it helps, the perimeters of Whisper Grove were canvassed. There was one Ripple Hills member hanging around the border,” Manx says, carrying a tray of tea to the table. He places the tray on the center of the table and disperses the teacups. I move away from the window and stand by the table while Manx pours tea into Willow’s cup first. She smiles and thanks him, and then he pours some for me.
“What was he doing there?” I ask.
“He wasn’t really doing anything. He had a fire going, and we told him to leave.”
“Well? Did he?”
“Yes. Without hesitation.”
Willow helps herself to a few cubes of sugar, plopping them into the hot liquid.
“However,” Manx says, sitting at the head of the table. “He did leave a message before he went.”
I slide my eyes to Manx’s, and he pushes a folded sheet of paper across the table to me. There’s blood on the paper, and I avoid a grimace as I pick it up and open it. When I read the message, I clench my jaw and crumple the paper in my hand.
“How long ago did he leave?” I ask.
“Two hours ago.”