Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
The words made my gut clench. “Damn it, Duffy. It’s not the same. And I was trying to protect you. Can’t you understand that? I didn’t want you to die.”
Duffy sighs as though he heard the excuse a thousand times, and he likely had. “But Lach, there are some things that are worth dying over. Haven’t you figured that out yet? You would die for Bronwyn. Do you think she’s less a woman than you are a man? Do you think she doesn’t want her life to matter?”
What the hell is Duffy talking about? Doesn’t he understand that everything I’m doing is about how precious Bronwyn is? How precious Duffy is?
I’m about to answer when a trilling alarm goes off and Roan’s whole body shifts to full alert. He has a sonic blade in his hand in an instant, and he and Harry pull Gillian behind them.
“I have alarms set up all over,” Roan explains. “I placed them before we settled into camp. It could be a deer or it could be Torin’s guard. The last village said their guards had been pulled out just the day before to hunt for the princess.”
I’m relieved to see Shim hauling ass back to camp. He grabs Bron and forces her behind us.
Dante walks in, his hands in the air. Kaja is at his side, in her wolf form, her delicate nose in the air.
A large man walks behind Dante. He’s at least my height at six foot five. He has an Unseelie look about him, and I would bet he isn’t a pure sidhe. Emerald-green eyes and pitch-black hair make a stark contrast to Dante’s reddish blond.
“Dude, I told you we’re not Torin’s guard,” Dante is saying. “I showed you my fucking fangs, man. I’m a desperate vampire looking for a consort. Do you know any? Because I will pay.”
Kaja growls.
“I’ve learned not to believe everything a person says. People lie, even when they have knives to their backs.” The dark man looks around. “You have women here. Why the hell do you have women here?”
Dante gives him a careless grin. “I’m ridiculously wealthy. I keep an entourage with me, even in faery forests. The men are here to ensure my safety and the women are here to do what women do.”
Gillian huffs. “As if I would touch you, Dellacourt.”
The dark man stiffens. “Dellacourt? Are you one of the vampires who’s related to our kings?”
A little laugh comes from the trees above. “Yes, he is, Master Zane. He’s the billionaire playboy turned fairly ruthless political advisor. And the wolf beside you is his wife.” The phooka. Of course. It was chaos. Naturally the phooka showed up. It was in its tree form, hanging upside down from one of the low branches. “I believe I mentioned we could call them allies.”
Dante breathes a deep sigh as the man named Zane lets him go. “Sorry, guys. I was giving into Kaja’s need to hunt when this asshole jumped me. When did the lemur thing start talking? You know we’re in a faery forest. It’s really best to shoot anything that talks and ask questions never.”
I feel Bron moving behind me, trying to get a good view, but I’m not certain anything is settled yet. I block her, unwilling to expose her at all.
Zane sheathes his incredibly large knife and looks at Dellacourt. “So all that talk was bullshit. You don’t need a consort. You have a wolf.”
Kaja changes, her transformation so quick if he blinked he would miss it. “He has a consort, though after calling my friends cheap women, he might not get his meal tonight.”
Dellacourt shrugs out of his jacket and wraps it around his wife’s shoulders. “I am sorry, lover. They are very expensive prostitutes. Is that better?”
“Much,” Kaja agrees. “One would always rather be expensive. Queen Meg taught me that.”
Dante sends his consort a pointed look. “Too bad she didn’t teach you to bite the people who pull a knife on me.”
Kaja shakes her head. “He wasn’t going to use it. He’s protecting his son. And someone else. There are still two more out there. I could smell them. They’re afraid. And on the run. Fear is easy to smell.”
Zane turns back to the forest. “Nathan, you can bring Charlie out now.”
A second man, this one slightly shorter but just as fit, his brown hair curling over the edges of his tunic collar, walks out of the woods carrying a young man in his arms.
“I told you I would bring you to safety,” the phooka says.
Nathan struggles with the body in his arms, but he seems resolute. “You told us you would take us back to Aoibhneas.”
Shim moves forward. “You’re the Harpers’ friends. The one whose boy was taken by Torin.”
Bron moves, sidestepping me and slipping toward the newcomers. Gillian moves, too, though Roan and Harry do nothing to stop her.