Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
He dropped down next to her a moment later.
“They aren’t looking to go through the Faegate, either,” she murmured, unable to help herself from glancing skyward. “They want to go over somehow. A bridge, he said. He sounded confident that it was possible.”
Puffy clouds slowly drifted across the night sky. Stars glimmered and the moon hung low. Nothing disturbed the light.
“Oh god,” she breathed without meaning to, pulling her gaze away. “They must’ve landed. Can they really go that fast?”
“It’ll be fine,” he said, directing her with a hand gripped on her upper arm. “It really should be fine.”
Should be fine?
She looked at his face, seeing no emotion. He didn’t offer any other explanation.
They reached a main road and turned right. They’d gone a couple of blocks out of their way, but at least they were putting distance between themselves and that apartment complex.
“How long does it take for the flavor of his magic to go away?” she asked, chancing another look up, this time at the rooftops.
Zorn’s face ripped toward her, his gaze sharp.
“What?” she asked.
He looked away without comment. Only after the next turn, closer to the car and their safety, did he offer a reply of sorts.
“Twelve hours if he is of decent strength. Twenty-four if he is powerful.”
She swallowed. “Would an assassin for a fae king be that powerful?”
“Not usually. Twelve hours should do you—”
“Even if he could pluck out memories from four years ago?”
He jerked as though struck. His gaze didn’t swing down to her in the following stretch of silence. He was contemplating her words, debating what questions to ask. His next words terrified her.
“Twenty-four, then, and we need to hurry. They’ll be able to feel that magic from a greater distance.”
By not asking questions, he was essentially telling her to keep her mouth shut. Clearly he realized the fae were prickly about information sharing. Hopefully she hadn’t already said too much. The last thing she wanted was to give that fae male any reason to go after her family.
“Distance will help,” Zorn murmured, his hand on her arm tightening and urging her to go faster. “Constantly moving air currents will, too. We’ll go directly to Demigod Kieran. He can play with the weather and provide some shelter.”
Her released breath sounded loud in the still night.
“Are you in any danger?” she asked softly. He’d know she was talking about his heritage.
He didn’t respond. She couldn’t decipher his body language.
She didn’t push. There was no point. If he didn’t want to answer, he’d ignore her quite easily. When he got stubborn, nothing in the world could move him.
They reached the next corner. A street lamp showered the cracked sidewalk in a murky amber light. The car was just down the way, around the bend.
“Can they still scent or sense or whatever the fae magic if it’s locked up in a car?” she asked.
“Ye—” He jerked to a stop.
A tall man calmly strode around the bend, directly at them. A deep crimson jacket was molded to his broad chest. Sparkling scroll looped down on either side of the edges of his jacket in the same material. A high, rigid collar crowded his neck, and gray cuffs were a thick band around the bottom of each sleeve. Under, he wore a gray waistcoat in the same color as the cuffs, with the same loopy scroll, this not glittering. Shiny black pants completed the ensemble, ending in strange shoes made of something like velvet, but the material rippled like water as he walked. His crisp blond hair, utterly straight, dusted his shoulders. There were no wings in sight. They must be able to retract them somehow.
She had an eye for fashion. Had drooled over magazines when she was too poor to buy a pair of shoes. She knew jewelry and cars and all things expensive. Now it was a hobby, a flippant way to exist in her current life while hollowly drowning in her wildest dreams. The clothes on this guy were made of the finest stuff, and that glitter was diamonds, she’d bet her life on it. He wore this strange but perfectly cut and tailored suit like armor. His bearing screamed prestige and pedigree. Importance. Nobility.
His pointed ears, sticking out of his thin hair, said he was not of this world.
How did the suit work with his wings?
His gaze rooted to her as he casually strolled closer.
Zorn went that scary sort of liquid, his limbs loose, ready for action. He didn’t move position. He never advertised what was coming next. He held her arm and watched the Celestial approach.
The man—could she call it a man without it being human? Creature? Thing?
He slowed, ten paces away, and held up a hand to Zorn, warning them to stay put. His eyes remained rooted to Daisy. He then lifted his other hand, his long, delicate fingers clutching her throwing knife—the one the earlier fae had tossed over the ledge. The fae’s blood crusted the blade.