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)
Understanding dawned. “You grieve your human life.”
“I know it was ungrateful.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I forget how young you are. Your physical strength and professionalism belie your years. It is quite normal to grieve for these things at your age. Know it will pass.”
I hate you. I want to drive a wooden stake through your fucking black heart and watch the horror on your face, knowing it was me who ended you. “Thank you for your understanding, Father.”
He nodded abruptly. “You are done with it now? You feel … strong again?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good.” William picked up the iPad on his desk and handed it to her. “Because you’re going to Vienna.”
Surprised, Echo looked at the screen and saw an image of a familiar man. She wasn’t sure why he was so familiar until she read the information on the screen. Looking up at William, she frowned. “Why are we interested in a rock star?”
“Because word in the magical community is that he’s a powerful warlock.”
“Okay?”
William curled his lip in disgust. “But there are those who suspect he is able to do magic without taking energy from the Earth and its occupants.”
Echo’s pulse began to race. “You suspect he’s one of the fae-borne.”
“I’m not sure. But, as always, we must investigate. I need someone young, beautiful, smart, and strong to infiltrate his life and uncover his origins.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You want me to seduce it out of him?”
“If it comes to that.”
“Why me?”
“Well, you are all the above … and it’s time you made your mark here. If anything were to happen to me, I want you to take over, not Orla.”
Shocked, Echo raised an eyebrow. “Does Orla know that?”
“She does. And she will accept it … if you prove yourself.” He pointed to the iPad. “If Elijah Webb is one of the fae … you’re going to kill him and cement your position as my second-in-command.”
1
The crowd was already singing one of their songs, and they hadn’t even taken to the stage.
Elijah looked over at his bandmates, and Phil grinned at him. “Never gets old, mate.”
He shook his head, grinning back. No, it never got old.
“I still can’t believe we’re playing at Arena.” Adam flipped a drumstick, feet bouncing, buzzing to play.
To be fair, Elijah was buzzing too. Arena in Vienna was one of the most iconic music venues in Europe. It was an old slaughterhouse, covered in graffiti, and within its walls was a courtyard where some of the best rock bands in the world had played. Now they were among them. And on this surprisingly warm May evening, the open-air venue was ideal.
His cell buzzed in the back pocket of his jeans—a text from his mum. He opened it.
Good luck, darling! Have another amazing gig! Love, Mum and Dad xx
Elijah’s grin widened and he quickly texted back a thank-you and “I love you too.”
“Mummy again?” his bass player Jamal teased.
“You’re just jealous.” Elijah winked.
Phil snorted. “If the fans knew you were such a mummy’s boy, we’d never sell tickets.”
“Good thing they’ll never know then, huh?” He clapped Phil on the back just as the crowd’s yells grew impatient. “Time to do this, boys.”
As he led the band onto the stage, Elijah took hold of that golden hum of power within and let it gently exude out of him. He’d noticed years ago that it affected the boys in the best way, allowing them to play gig after gig without becoming as exhausted as they should. It meant they rarely, if ever, had an off gig.
The roar of the crowd blasted into the four of them as they took their positions. A rush of adrenaline flooded Elijah, and he grinned wickedly at a group of young women at the front. They screamed hysterically, and Elijah turned to catch Jamal’s eye. “Mummy’s boy?” he mouthed, gesturing to himself.
Jamal laughed. “Just fucking start, you vain prick.”
Chuckling, Elijah looked back out at the hundreds of fans before them and raised a fist. That’s all it took. They stamped their feet, the thundering noise flowing up toward the stage like a crashing wave.
“Hello, Vienna!” he yelled into the mic, and the screaming went beyond deafening. “We’re the Strix.”
He let the ensuing roar reach new heights, and then Phil, his guitarist, fed up with Elijah milking it, played the first notes of their latest hit, “Afterlife.”
There was nothing like the buzz of being onstage, of having hundreds of people singing the Strix’s songs back at them. They’d played much bigger venues, but there was something about the smaller, iconic places that added an extra touch of magic.
At one point, through the glare of the stage lights, Elijah started one of their slower, romantic songs (written by Phil for his fiancée Nicole) to one of the young women at the front. The pretty brunette and her friends grew more hysterical as he held eye contact with her. And then suddenly, the brunette’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she crumpled between her friends.