Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
The latter idea had probably gained further veracity in Tower circles when vampire after angel after vampire caught her eating one thing or another in hallways, up in the air, or just hanging around in various break rooms and offices. Yesterday, a warrior with curls of darkest brown and playful brown eyes had busted her eating an entire pizza, piece by glorious piece.
Sam still smelled of snow falling on apples to her hunter senses, a scent as fresh and unique as the man he’d grown up to be. Spotting her pizza feast, he’d grinned a grin that held the mischievous heart of the boy who’d been her first friend at angel school, and said, “Where are the pickles?”
Smartass.
A smartass whom she’d made fetch her the jar of pickles because once reminded of them, she’d begun salivating for one.
“I even gave him a slice of pizza,” she told Honor today while the two of them sparred in the same basement sparring room used by Raphael and Dmitri during their bouts.
“But only”—she blocked a hand strike—“because I knew I had a delicious box of potato-and-spinach pakoras waiting upstairs. Izzy flew to my favorite vendor to grab them for me.” Her stomach rumbled. “Oh, now I’ve done it. Our little spark is hungry again.”
“Feeling among the warrior types is that you’ve just decided to kick back for a bit, have a season away from training and hunting like they all do now and then,” Honor said as she blocked Elena’s retaliatory strike. “They don’t understand about being hunter-born.”
“Yeah.” Her internal drive to hunt meant Elena had to stay in peak condition. Because not being in peak condition would mean she’d end up with her head ripped off—because not hunting wasn’t an option. She didn’t know how Vivek had done it, stayed sane all those years when he couldn’t hunt.
The year in the Refuge would be doable—just—only because her body had, over the centuries, become accustomed to an immortal timeline. It gave her a few months’ more wiggle room before the need to hunt became a frenzied compulsion. If need be, however, she’d fly to the closest territory, which happened to be Caliane’s, and get in a hunt. Talking of her hunting capability…
She attempted a full-speed pass at Honor.
Her fellow hunter just stood there, a statue in black workout tights and a dark navy sports bra, her soft black hair scraped back in a high ponytail. “Nope. Not playing.”
Having pulled up hard, her hand a centimeter from the other woman’s throat, Elena threw up her hands. “Ugh!”
It was ridiculous. No one would spar at full speed with her these days—the men wouldn’t even get on the sparring mat with her.
“Don’t want to die,” had been Izzy’s cheerful response.
“Today is not a great day for my funeral, Ellie.” Sam, that traitor.
Even languid Janvier had smiled a regretful smile at her. “Ellie, mon amie, how will you explain my dead body to my Ashblade, hmm?”
No one seemed to believe her when she said Raphael wouldn’t murder them.
At least Honor, Ashwini, and the other women had been more sensible—but even they drew the line at full-speed combat. “I feel like I’m moving in molasses,” she complained.
Honor rolled the deep green of her uptilted eyes as she said, “So sad. Watch, I’ll play my tiny violin for you.” She rubbed her forefinger and thumb together. “You’re moving at normal speed, not hunter-born, you ingrate. And here I am, putting my body in the line of archangelic fury to give you a workout.”
Then she moved.
Elena avoided a kick that would’ve knocked off her head had Honor been coming at her at full speed, then pushed the other woman’s leg aside and threw up a kick of her own. Honor caught it with one hand, twisted, and Elena twisted her whole body over with a gleeful “Hell yeah!”
Grinning as she came down on both feet, she said, “That’s more like it.”
“Don’t tell Raphael I cracked and gave you what you wanted,” her fellow hunter snarled with a pointed finger. “I’ll be one extra-crispy-fried vamp before either of us can blink.”
“Pinky promise.” Elena lifted her tank top away from her skin in an effort to cool down. Because much as it galled her, it was taking her more effort to even maintain normal speed these days. “Can you throw me a towel?”
After doing that, Honor grabbed them each a sports drink. “I still can’t believe you’re at seven months.”
“Can’t hide it much longer.” Elena used the towel to wipe the back of her neck, pushing her braid aside in the process. “The bump is going to bump.”
She oofed just then, as the kiddo poked her with an elbow or a foot. “If Raphael were here, he’d be smiling proudly right now.” It was adorable, how besotted her archangel was with their baby.