Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Fine.” Enraged but not stupid, Echo reached over him and uncuffed one hand. His arm fell limply above his head. She reached for the other and unlatched it.
To her shock, there was a blur of movement, and she found herself pinned beneath Elijah. Panic suffused her, and she tried to move, but it was like having an entire apartment building sitting on top of her. Echo had never encountered this kind of strength before. And this was when he was weakened from iron.
Holy crap.
He straddled her, his face flushed, green eyes sparking with rage. He bent his head toward her, his lips almost brushing hers. “If I ever see you again, vampire, I will rip out your fucking heart with my bare hands. Understood?”
Echo glowered up at him but nodded.
His anger banked slightly as he eased from her, but then his attention caught on his wrists. Holding her down easily with one hand, he studied the inflamed wounds there. “What the bloody hell?”
“It’s the iron. You react to it like a wolf to silver or a vampire to a stake.”
Uncertainty flickered in his expression, and he swallowed hard.
“Elijah … I’m not lying.”
His eyes returned to hers. Denial hardened his features. “If this leaves a scar, you better hope I never see you again, love.”
And then her hair whipped around her face as if a gust of wind had blown through the room. The weight holding her down was gone. Echo sat up.
Elijah was gone.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Eirik hadn’t lied.
The fae were stronger and faster than she could have ever imagined.
3
For the first time, Elijah cursed his inability to get truly bloody drunk. He needed a distraction. A numbing, blissful distraction from the fact that he’d been held hostage by a crazy vampire with crazy notions about what he was.
And scarred by the handcuffs she’d used on him.
He examined the healed burn around his left wrist. It had taken less than half an hour after he’d left Echo behind in that shitty hotel room for the wounds to heal. But he was left permanently marked by the iron.
“Fuck.” Elijah lifted his other arm to stare at his right wrist and the matching scar.
“The fae cannot die on Faerie. But here on Earth, they can be injured or killed by pure iron. William gave me the handcuffs you’re wearing and sent me here to uncover whether you are fae. The fact that the iron affects you proves it.”
He sat up, ignoring the moan from the groupie lying naked beside him. A quick glance told him the brunette was asleep, as was the pink-haired friend curled around her. Elijah had hoped a fuck-a-thon with a couple of groupies might distract him from Echo’s voice in his head, but no such luck. Especially when they both asked where he’d gotten the scars. Hopefully, they’d never mention it to anyone else.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he reached for the wide leather cuffs sitting on the bedside table. Thankfully, he had several he often wore, usually one on each wrist and only when he wore his shirt sleeves rolled up. Buckling them on now to cover the unfortunate new marks, Elijah scowled. He’d worn them under his shirt in case the fabric slid up during their gig. He hadn’t wanted the guys noticing and asking questions he couldn’t answer.
For over a decade, Elijah had managed to keep his gifts hidden from his bandmates. The only two people in the world who knew about them were his parents.
“The spell brought to fruition seven children, born to human parents, but fae. Seven fae children with fae gifts and fae immortality … and more importantly with the ability to open the gate.
“Whoever used the children’s blood to open the gate would be welcomed into Faerie where they could live forever.”
“Get out of my head,” he muttered, pushing up off the bed to cross the room into the sitting area of the presidential suite. Uncaring of his nakedness, Elijah pulled back the curtains and stared out at the city. The hotel was in Old Town and his suite was just high enough to see across the top of the building adjacent. The city was abuzz with early-morning traffic. It was a sunny May morning.
No cloud cover.
Total daylight.
Suddenly, Elijah wanted nothing more than to get out of the hotel and onto the streets where a treacherous vamp couldn’t get at him. Uncaring of the women still sleeping in his bed, Elijah showered quickly, threw on jeans and a T-shirt, tucked his phone in his back pocket, slipped on sunglasses, and departed the room. Phil and Jamal were happy to share a suite, but since Elijah and Adam fucked around a lot, they always got their own rooms. The rest of their entourage stayed throughout the hotel.