Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
My dragon-shadow lowered its great head toward me.
Wispy smoke left its huge nostrils and breathed hot across my face.
I felt no fear of it, only awe and the thunder of my own blood.
And all the hope that with him. . .with him. . .I could fucking win this goddamn war!
Then the beast turned, slow, toward the dark where they had carried Nyomi, and to my fucking shock, a low sound built deep in the dragon-shadow’s chest, climbing, gathering, booming until it tore the night open with the beast’s dark, deranged voice. "WAR!"
Chapter nine
Now Comes the Power
Nyomi
The weight of my own eyelids pinned me somewhere between sleep and unconsciousness.
I floated in darkness, until finally, Deja's voice cut through the black. "Ladies, keep that pussy in those panties, if you have a set goal."
Huh?
Several women shrieked.
Others chuckled.
I struggled with opening my eyes, but couldn’t.
What kind of dream is this?
I lay still, and more feminine conversation settled over me. But at least my senses were slowly returning. I could feel my chest rising and falling, and my hands rested on a soft, thin blanket.
Cold air ran across my forehead.
The smell of antiseptic and burnt incense layered over each other like two songs playing at once.
I’m not dead. Right? But where am I?
Then Deja kept going. "If you want marriage, make sure he marries you before he gets that pussy. If you want a down payment on a house, he doesn't get the pussy until the bank confirms that the shit is paid. Fuck, if you just want a nice bag, don't bring that pussy out until the bag is dangling from your shoulder."
Yep. Definitely not dead because this is surely not heaven, and I doubt it is hell.
A new voice rose from somewhere on the right. The accent was Japanese. The tone polite. "What if he doesn't have the money right now? I am secretly dating someone. . .his name is Masaru. My father doesn't like him because he is not where he needs to be. But I want to help him grow."
"And this is what I mean." Deja's voice climbed. "I'm with your daddy on this. Why are some women so obsessed with helping a man grow? Like damn, bitch. Get some plants or start a fucking garden."
Tons of women laughed.
But where am I? And how is Deja here? Wouldn’t she be off the island?
The last thing I remembered was the forest, the red robes, the torchlights, the Death Guardian crouched over Kenji while he writhed in the dirt, and hooded figures carrying me away.
And now Deja's giving a TED Talk on how to get a man to pay your mortgage.
Slowly, I opened my eyes.
The world swam back to me. A wood ceiling ran low above me with bamboo beams running across it. A lantern hung on a hook. The light was a soft gold, and it ached in my eyes.
Where the fuck am I?
I opened the other eye and tried to pull the room into focus. It wouldn't come fully. Edges blurred and doubled. A figure passed at the foot of my bed in white and moved on.
“This isn’t back in the day when men had a little sense and some traditional manners.” Deja kept going. "We’re in a new age, where the biggest downfall for a woman is a broke man.”
My vision was still blurry, yet getting better second by second. I felt the soft pillow under my head and turned.
A few feet away, on the cot next to mine, Zo lay flat on his back. A thin blanket was pulled up to his armpits. His mouth hung open. His blonde hair was a perfect mess across the pillow, the way only Zo could make a mess look styled. A long snore ripped out of him, climbed for a beat, and then dropped off into a soft whistle.
Oh, Zo. I hope you get to sleep through this whole war.
Warmth opened in my chest at the sight of him. Then Zo let loose another snore loud enough that one of the women across the room glanced over and shook her head with a small smile.
“We've got too many Pick-Me chicks and Wanna-be Good Girls. In this world as a woman, you have two choices for success.” Deja snapped her fingers. “Either be a Gold Digger or be about your own personal growth. The latter means. . .you're focused on your own paper, and you must decenter men."
I widened my eyes.
The room came in clearer. It was a long basement space. Low lit. Bamboo posts ran the length of it like the bones of a building turned inside out.
Cots lined both walls. Men in bandages slept on most of them. One groaned in his sleep. Another had an IV running into his arm and a nurse moving around him with quiet hands.
Facts hit my head without my understanding why.