Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
The phone’s screen flared to life. One new message popped up. He’d barely gotten a glimpse of the warning before he was spinning for the hallway.
One foot hit the ground, and then everything happened at once. Glass shattered in three of the windows in the living room, caught by the blinds and showering a small section of the floor. More glass broke at the back of the house—the bedrooms.
Nessa!
He put on a burst of speed. His socks slid against the polished wood floor as he tried to turn the corner. Ripping sounded behind him as his shoulder rammed into the hallway entrance corner. The blinds were coming down.
Magic flared all around him, shot from the windows. It blackened the wall near his face and flew into the hallway by his side. More glass shattered, and he realized people had surrounded the house. They’d brought a hell of an arsenal. Momar really wanted Elliot Graves. If Sebastian and Nessa were caught, they’d be mercilessly tortured for information.
Heart in his throat, knowing he had to somehow get them out of here, he turned to throw up a defense, and a shot hit his barrier.
Nessa screamed from behind her closed door.
His feet pounded the wood. A flare of light caught his notice out of the corner of his eye, and a shot of magic zipped behind him as he ran past the bathroom.
Nearly at his room, he constructed another magical barrier. A black boot stepped out from the shadows, followed by a big body and a face in a ski mask.
A club swung around before he could further raise his hands. The hard wood struck his head as Nessa screamed again.
Blackness rushed in.
Nessa
Terror squeezed her heart as a knee was braced on the center of her back. Her hands were ripped behind her before she could reach her knife. A zip tie secured her wrists, and rough hands grabbed her shoulders to pull her upper body off the ground. A bag was yanked down over her head and a string pulled tight to keep it there.
Her breathing accelerated as adrenaline flooded her body. Shouting and thumps came from the hallway, the sounds of feet running and then someone hitting the floor.
Her bedroom door didn’t burst open as Sebastian came to save her. Instead, all she heard was boots scraping the ground. The thumps must have been Sebastian.
Panic froze her as two people jerked her to her feet, one on each arm. They walked her forward, stopping at the door to open it.
Someone in the hallway grunted. Something slid along the ground, and then everyone was moving. They’d picked Sebastian up. He was limp, knocked out. Not walking.
Oh, God.
She reached for her magic. Not the mage kind, which she couldn’t do without her hands, but the energy kind. The kind Tristan had helped her realize and wanted her to learn. It was coercion magic very few people possessed, a mood-altering talent that, unlike a spell, was mostly undetectable. If she were powerful and experienced enough, she could bend people to her will.
It seeped into her, battling the adrenaline. She’d never practiced in heightened circumstances. It wasn’t a magic that could be turned on and off, fired at will. It had to live inside the wielder, always there, used with finesse lest the enemy notice the foreign emotional sensation and rail against it.
She didn’t have much finesse now, and she sure didn’t have the presence of mind to work through her terror.
Her energy swirled around her, heating her in that way it did. Tingling through her body. Reaching for the people holding her arms. Feeling around the room for others.
Her heart sank. The room was full of them, one carrying Sebastian and the rest hurrying for the front door. Even if her escorts released her, the others would grab her. If they dropped her, still more were on hand. Eventually, they would realize what she was doing, even if they didn’t know how, and they’d knock her out.
She pulled the robust part of her energy closer and only left fingers of magic floating. She’d at least keep tabs on the enemy.
Cold air gushed in from the front door, and Nessa shivered. All she wore was an oversized T-shirt and panties. She hadn’t dressed for the occasion because she’d put her faith in Sebastian’s wards and their style of living. Stupid.
The air grew colder until she could tell they were outside. Her bare feet hit the frigid cement of the porch. She felt her way down the steps but was too slow, and her captives dragged her forward. Her toes and the tops of her feet scratched against the walkway, tearing her skin. She tried to get her feet under her again, but the people holding her didn’t slow, nor did they lift her that little bit to help. They were content to drag her like an animal carcass.