Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Waiting for an enemy that wasn’t coming.
Rhage walked right up to Bitty. “We’re going home.”
“I just wanted to check in with Shuli and—”
“Now.”
As father and daughter stared at each other for a heartbeat, Allhan glanced around at all the weapons and wondered when the Brother was going to focus on the arsenal. The warrior didn’t seem to care. He didn’t even appear to notice that there was anybody or anything else in the room.
In the world.
“Okay,” Bitty said roughly.
She didn’t waste a breath on goodbye. She just dematerialized away.
Rhage’s head cranked around to Allhan. “You’re leaving now, too.”
Those eyes, usually such a bright and shining blue, were darker and deeper than the pits of hell, and Allhan felt his blood run cold. In that gaze were centuries of war. A whole history of death and pain and horrible sights. Decisions made and regretted. Battles lost.
People lost.
“Yeah, okay,” Allhan whispered as he closed his eyes. “I’m g-going.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The one thing that L.W. freely admitted to sharing with his father was impatience.
As he stalked the slayer ahead of him, he hated the delay. He wanted to run up on the fucker, break the neck to incapacitate the arms and legs, and then drag it into some quiet, dim corner or alley so he could get to work. Instead, he had to make sure he was far enough away from all the humans huddling their way through the cold—without also getting too close to where the Brothers did their usual field work. Navigating the sweet spot of incognito was fucking annoying, and the longer he had to wait for a takedown while remaining on this south and east tack, the more enraged he got.
Which, granted, wasn’t a hard lift.
Another thing he and dear ol’ Dad had in common.
The slayer stopped up ahead and took out a cell phone. There was so much ambient light from all the buildings that the moon hadn’t needed to fill in any details: Short and stocky. Dark hair, so it was a new recruit. Jacket was shaggy and ill-fitting.
There were weapons under there, though. Lash clearly didn’t care about wardrobes, but he was arming his undead well these days.
L.W. stepped back into the shadows of a doorway, but he didn’t think the fucker was going to bother to look over its shoulder.
Out alone. No backup. Untrained.
Not much of a challenge. Then again, he himself was at a disadvantage with all his lingering injuries.
As he was forced to wait some more, his upper lip peeled up on its own, the cold tapping on his fangs and making them tingle. He wanted to take out his phone so he could yell at Rhamp again just to work off his frustration, but he didn’t want to give away his position….
He glanced around as the delay continued.
Fuck it. Closing his eyes, he took a slow, deep breath—
And willed himself right behind the slayer.
“Boo.”
The undead bastard wheeled around, his eyes going peeled-wide.
“I’m gonna make you hurt,” L.W. growled as he clapped his hands on both of those ears.
With a jerk, he twisted the head, and the snap of the cervical vertebra was oh, so satisfying, as was the instant deadweight. Releasing his hold, the slayer went facedown into the dirty snow like a bag of sand, and yet the piece of shit stayed alive.
Fine, animated.
L.W. planted a shitkicker on either side of the torso and rolled the thing on its back. There was fear in those peepers, instead of the usual defiance, and the mouth was working like it was trying to talk, but oops—the voice box had been reduced to pulled pork.
“Don’t tell me this is your first night out,” he said to the thing.
With what was left of the muscle control on the side of its neck, there was a little nod and a lot more lip movement.
“Well, ain’t that a bitch—”
As a tear eased out of one of those eyes, L.W. felt a fresh shot of rage. “Now you’re crying. This bargain with Lash not turn out how you thought, huh?”
He put his face right into the lesser’s. “Did you get double-crossed? Were you lied to about what you were getting into?”
The way the tears increased, he took that as a yes.
Inside his coat, his phone went off with a vibration. When it immediately stilled and started up again, that was the signal that it was either Rhamp or Shuli. But now was not the time for interruptions.
“Sold on a lie, and your soul was taken.”
More tears, so many that they mixed with the black, glossy blood that had been pumped into the body after it had been drained of everything that made it human.
“I’m so sorry.”
On that shot of sarcasm, he bared both his fangs, hissed, and bit the flesh off the cheek. Spitting the chunk out to the side, he knew a fury that transformed him in ways that should have scared him. Instead, he took the black emotion down deep, like it was the last breath before he submerged.