Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Dante pulled the SUV to a stop in front of a pair of towering iron gates. Through the cold, twisted bars, the imposing Black Widow Estate lay shrouded in shadows up a long, paved driveway. The dash clock read 7:30 PM, leaving me with a precious ten minutes to get inside. I patted the side of my leg, reassured by the firm press of the blue knife hidden within the discreet pocket of my pants. We weren’t allowed baggage or a change of clothes, so I’d gone for fashion and practicality.
My legs were clad in black skinny jeans, torn just enough to add a bit of edge without sacrificing mobility. They hugged my form, allowing for maximum movement, which I’d need if I was going to dance with danger as planned. I’d chosen a dark plaid shirt to pair with them, over a tank top. It was loose enough to allow for quick movements but fitted enough to show I wasn’t just some waif to be underestimated. My feet were snug in a pair of sturdy black combat boots, laced tightly up to the ankles, comfortable enough to run, fight, or stand my ground for hours.
“You all set, kiddo?” Dante asked, a blend of concern and unspoken pride swirling in his tone.
“All ready to go,” I confirmed.
Mom turned in her seat to get a good look at me, her pretty face the original version of mine. “Did you say goodbye to Hael?” she asked, her words tinged with a mother’s worry.
I shook my head. “Aisha will keep him busy. You know her sister is supposed to be here?” I threw in casually, trying to mask the rare pang of guilt for telling Hael to stay behind. I knew he wanted to join Judicium too, but deep down, I feared it would chew him up and spit him out in lil’ bite-sized pieces.
Dante turned as Mom had, and his dark eyes met mine, a spark of irritation flickering through them. I loved how closely he resembled Ky and Char, much more than the other guy—dark-haired, dark-eyed, and effortlessly intimidating.
“We haven’t gotten to see the finalized roster yet. Another one of Kyle’s petty moves after he found out we wanted to place a bet.”
“You guys are betting on me?” I asked, pleasantly surprised. Geez, there might’ve been an actual tear in my eye.
“Aren’t you going to go in there and show them what it means to be a Vetis?” Mom fired back, her belief in me as fierce as ever. She’d been through her own Judicium, after all, kicking ass with her ex-bestie Pandora Serpine.
“I’ll give them a show they won’t forget,” I promised with a grin, the reminder of my task sparking like electricity through my veins. I leaned forward and placed a quick peck on her cheek, then Dante’s. He held me a second longer in a small hug.
“We’ll be watching, Kennedy. Every step of the way,” Dante promised, his voice thick with emotion.
“I’ll keep you entertained,” I shot back with a wink as he released me, swinging the car door open. The cool evening air brushed against my skin. Stepping out, I turned to give them one last look. “Love you guys. Catch you on the other side,” I quipped, my voice steady but my heart racing with adrenaline.
“We love you, Kenzie. Be smart, and remember who you are,” Mom coached, her eyes brimming with tears she wouldn’t let fall.
I nodded, slamming the door shut behind me and striding towards the gates to hell.
Chapter Three
Passing through the entry gates was suspiciously simple. Maybe that blinking red dot at the top had something to do with it. Hauling my 5’4” self all the way up the ridiculously long driveway was the real pain. I didn’t see anyone else, and I wondered if that was done purposely.
I eventually rounded the final bend and got my first real look at the place. The estate stood imposingly against the sky. The moonlight cast an eerie glow on the freshly painted facades, and the refurbished stonework glistened under the weight of history. Each window, pristine and clear, reflected the stormy clouds above, giving the illusion of movement within the stillness of the house—a pretty neat parlor trick if you didn’t know to expect it.
Gargoyles perched atop the stone balustrades seemed to observe me with heartwarming attentiveness, their eyes lifelike under the flickering light of the gas lamps and pre-lit pumpkins that lined the path. The wind picked up, sending whispers of colorful leaves through the corridors of manicured gardens bordering the driveway. This place was a paradox, beautifully restored yet undeniably Gothic, welcoming yet warning. The chill that ran down my spine wasn’t just from the cold; it was anticipation with just a sprinkle of concern.
This wasn’t just any old estate; it was a carefully staged arena, and I was one of the chosen players.