Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
He brushed a lock of her dark hair off of her face. His fingers ran down her neck, feeling her jumpy pulse, going lower, lower, lower, to the spot between her breasts where her wren pendant rested. She felt him graze the side of her breast as he examined the precious metal with a dangerous smirk.
“My wren,” he said like a caress.
He closed his fist around the pendant and slowly but inexorably pulled her forward against him, crushing their lips together. His heat enveloped her. Soft and hard and wanton all at once. A temptation more seductive than the most enticing incubus. A desire more potent than water in the desert. An ache that no touch had been able to satisfy.
His tongue darted into her mouth, commanding and controlling, overwhelming her senses and besieging her mind. She was putty in his hands, and a low moan escaped her, unbidden. Her fingers dug into his sides, dragging them closer, wanting so much more.
And then, he released her, leaving her reeling.
“What was that?” she asked.
He let the metal fall from his fingers. “Just a reminder before you go.”
She swallowed, prepared to tell him that she didn’t need any such reminder, but she couldn’t get the lie past her teeth. She wanted every reminder. Damn him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Gen stared down into the gloom of the subway entrance at Amsterdam and 72nd Street. “Maybe we should take a cab.”
“We’re New Yorkers. We can brave a troll or two to take the subway.”
“Dublin spoiled me.”
“That is a fact,” Kierse said as they trotted down the stairs.
Dublin proper was in drastic contrast to a post–Monster War New York City. During the war, New York had been sliced up into territories by the monsters and the human gangs. The vampire elite held the Upper East Side, the werewolves Chelsea, and the mer Central Park. There were wraiths doing business in Midtown, and a few disputed territories like Times Square that were just now starting to bring in wide-eyed tourists again. Humans occupied much of downtown with the Roulettes on the Lower East Side and the Jackals in Nolita, while the Italian mafia still ruled in Little Italy.
Traveling around the landscape was like navigating a minefield. Each subway entrance was controlled by a different gang and collected fees beyond what the city already acquired through the tills.
Kierse reached the bottom of the stairs to find a troll blocking the entrance. He wasn’t as big as the one she’d met at Versailles, but his head still grazed the ceiling as he glared at them through his small, bulbous eyes. He was shirtless in tattered green pants that flexed around his tree-trunk legs.
“Payment,” he grunted.
Gen gulped. While she’d refused to be held back by her chronic eye condition, she hadn’t used the subway as much as Kierse and Ethan. The trolls rightfully intimidated her, and she preferred to walk if she could.
Kierse stepped between Gen and the troll. The damn things weren’t intelligent, but they could sniff out fear like a bloodhound.
“Here,” Kierse said, throwing two twenties at the thing.
It studied the toll and then relented, taking a massive step backward and shaking the entire entrance. Gen glanced worriedly up at the ceiling as dust rained down on them.
Kierse grasped her hand and tugged her forward into the gloom of the subway system. They quickly swiped their MetroCards and pushed through the turnstile, heading to the platform. When they got there, they found a handful of beleaguered people clustered opposite a particularly ferocious-looking panther.
“Panther shifter,” Gen whispered.
Kierse grinned. It was so good to be home. She’d almost forgotten what a melting pot New York was.
When the 2 train finally rolled into the station, the panther snarled at the people before pouncing inside. A guy screamed and dashed out, following the rest of the passengers into a separate car.
Gen took an available seat, and Kierse stood over her, holding the overhead rail and watching the rest of the passengers with wary apprehension. Her glamour was carefully in place. Not that any of these people would likely understand what her ears indicated. Her natural suspicion had only intensified with the knowledge that someone had tried to kill off everyone like her. It was good that she trusted so few people.
“We’ll change trains at Times Square,” Kierse said.
“Yeah,” Gen said, sucking on her teeth. “I still hate it there.”
“I know. If the theaters are all reopening, though, it can’t be as bad.”
“Just hard not to think about it like it was during the war,” she whispered.
Times Square, for all its capitalistic splendor, had been carved up and taken over by rival monsters during the war. They still killed enough humans, even post-Treaty, that almost everyone avoided it if they could, but before it was known-disputed monster territory, many humans had died. The aftereffects of those deaths still made people shudder.