Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Once PJ left through another portal, Ella closed the closet doors, nabbed her things from downstairs, and noticed she’d received a text from Brock to say that Mary hadn’t showed at his hotel room. Ella informed him that she hadn’t turned up at his home either—technically not a lie, since it had been PJ, not Mary—and so ‘the curse had been lifted’. She also sent a message to Neve, informing her of all that had happened.
Driving away from Brock’s house, Ella debated on what to do next. She wasn’t feeling all that tired. Maybe she could take a hot bath, drag on some comfy sweats, and read a book in bed.
Or you could go get laid. You know you want to.
Ella gritted her teeth. Okay, yes, she did. While she liked that Viper wanted her official consent rather than to seduce her into caving, the idea of toddling off to the Red Rooms to see him … it felt a little too much like answering a summons.
As an alternative occurred to her, she lifted her brows. She could instead go to the dive bar he owned. He wouldn’t be there, but he could join her there. Then he’d basically be meeting her halfway in this ‘come to me or I’ll come to you’ thing.
Her demon smiled, totally in support of that option.
Reaching a turn that would take her to the club that doubled as the entrance to the Underground, Ella tightened her grip on the steering wheel, warring with herself.
She took the turn. Her demon’s smile widened.
Ella parked the car, headed down to the Underground, and went straight to the dive bar. Stepping inside, she was greeted by the scents of yeasty beer, wood polish, spicy foods, and liquors.
Like the pool hall she frequented with Mia, the bar was dimly lit and featured some slot machines. One might be tempted to term this place dreary or in need of a makeover. But the choice of dated and eclectic décor was deliberate. It had an old-style, well-worn charm that she preferred over glamor and glitz.
Music played on the old-fashioned jukebox, mingling with the sounds of chatter and laughter. Unlike most other bars in the Underground, the dive was small and rarely cluttered with people. The drinks were cheap, the food menu was simple, and the clientele were mostly regulars.
She weaved her way around the heavy wooden tables as she began making her way to the bar. More than its usual skeleton crew was manning it this evening. Necessary, since not a single stool there was empty.
Feeling eyes on her, Ella looked to see the blonde from the Red Rooms staring at her. No, glaring at her. Huh. It appeared she still wasn’t happy that Viper had paid Ella any attention.
Unbothered, Ella shrugged it off and finished crossing to the bar.
Foam spat out of a beer tap, making the dark-skinned bartender swear beneath his breath. “Omen, need you to change this keg over here,” he grumpily called out. His blue gaze slid to Ella and … changed. Sharpened.
She pointed at the fridge full of beer bottles, preferring that brand. “I’ll have one of those and some sweet potato fries,” she told him.
He acknowledged the order with a tip of his chin. Moments later, he plonked her drink on the bar. “Fries will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
She curled her hand around the bottle. “Thanks.”
Ella claimed a corner booth and pulled out her phone. She texted Viper: Your bar’s pretty busy tonight.
There. That was pretty much a hint that he had the option of meeting her here.
If, however, Viper hadn’t responded by the time she’d finished her fries, she’d head on home. If he did respond and then subsequently drag his ass here … well, then, she’d hopefully get fucked good and proper.
Time would tell.
Viper stared at the steel door as growls rumbled from the angel trapped behind it. An angel who was pounding his fists on it with preternatural strength. If it weren’t for the wards securing the door closed, Merchant would have knocked it down for certain.
It was this very room, down in the basement of their clubhouse, where any brothers who went into bloodlust were confined. There was no other choice. Not when they would kill indiscriminately and glut themselves on the blood of anyone they came across.
“I never saw any signs that he was going into bloodlust,” said Prophet, who’d been the one to contact Viper and inform him that Merchant had turned.
“It took him fast and hard, completely out of nowhere,” added Sting.
“Happens like that sometimes,” Viper reminded them.
A red haze would abruptly fall over your vision and flood your mind, shoving down everything but your predatory instincts; turning your thoughts, needs, and wants feral and rabid. Several days would pass before you snapped out of it, and you’d have no memory of what happened during that time.