Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Shit, what if he passed out?
He was getting lightheaded and dizziness swamped him. Pulling to the side of the road, he parked and rested his forehead on the wheel, eyes shut tight.
Those two guys couldn’t have been there by accident—they must have known that thing was coming. Was that why they’d been in the restaurant? Was that why his fantasy man had stared so hard into his eyes?
He raised his head. His vision was blurry, so he blinked hard until the dark, empty street came back into focus. He couldn’t go home, and staying in town would be idiotic.
With his body and mind crashing from the adrenaline, he knew he couldn’t go far. All he knew was that he had to hide.
Glancing over his shoulder, he pulled back onto the street.
The whole time he drove to the next town, he had to work hard to stop a full-on panic attack. He tried to ground himself into reality. The way his warm breath puffed into the still-cold air. The feel of the steering wheel beneath his hands. The sound of the motor as he drove. Mostly, though, he just heard the pounding of his heart.
By the time he pulled into the parking lot of a small motel, he’d brought himself under control. This was going to be an expense he hadn’t budgeted for this month, but luckily he had a small savings he could dip into. He quickly got a room, and once inside, he locked the door and just stood in the clean but shabby room. He barely paid attention to the decor—didn’t give a shit about any of that. All he could think about was that zombie creature and the way its empty eyes sockets had seemed to be looking at him.
His arm hurt, so he shrugged out of his coat and sweater, then tugged his T-shirt over his head, wincing at the pain. Looking in the mirror, he grimaced at the dark bruises already forming on his bicep around the ring. He took that off, noting the bruising was worse where the silver had dug into his arm. Setting the ring on the dresser beneath the mirror, he tugged his clothes back on. Something told him he didn’t want to be without clothes in case that thing found him again.
Something told him it would. That it hadn’t found whatever it was after. He slipped the arm ring into the pocket of his coat so he wouldn’t accidentally leave it. His great-grandfather had given it to him when he was twelve, telling him it was a part of their family treasure and to keep it always. He’d worn it since. It wasn’t worth anything really, just a hammered piece of Viking silver. Had probably been worth more before his mother removed the three jewels it used to have. But it meant something to him. He’d been close to his great-grandfather, had mourned him deeply when he’d passed away. Rowan had been only fifteen, the loss of his great-grandfather a dark stain on his teen years.
He looked around the room, finally taking in the full-sized bed covered in a navy quilt and the beach paintings on the wall. It felt surreal, being here.
As he crawled fully clothed onto the bed, he had the strongest feeling that everything about his life was about to change.
Chapter Five
Ivor
Heart racing with more worry than he would have expected, Ivor sheathed his daggers and stared in the direction Rowan had gone. When Rowan ran, the draugr had lost all interest in fighting them and disappeared. “We need to find that apartment. Fast. What was the address again?”
Emory, still breathing hard from all the jumping, rattled it off between puffs of air that fogged in the cold.
Ivor pulled out his phone and typed it into the map. It was really close, so he started running in the right direction. His heart felt lodged in his throat, and sweat sprang up on his back as he sped toward the apartment building. Visions of Rowan torn to shreds filled his head, making him find a new burst of speed.
Emory sped to catch up with him. “We’re going to need a spell to trap that thing. We’re basically fighting a fucking ghost.”
“What we have to do is take Rowan back to the office in Seattle. The wards will keep the draugr away.” It had been in the office before, but it had been released from a chunk of nephrite during a spell. It wouldn’t be able to get back in.
Ivor spotted the building and shot up the stairs. When he saw the open apartment door, he didn’t hesitate to run inside.
Absolutely everything had been torn to shreds. The couch was nothing but a frame, the cushions ripped into fragments of material and stuffing all over the floor. Shelves were overturned, drawers pulled from side tables.