Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
“You really suck at this whole ‘sorry’ thing, FYI,” Shuli remarked.
“I don’t do it often.” The fighter tilted the cup and drank some of the broth.
When there was no tack onto that, no but-when-I-do-I-mean-it shit, it wasn’t really a shocker. “That I believe.”
Even more quiet. At which point Shuli closed his eyes and let his head fall back on his spine. “You could at least say the word. Or how about a synonym for it—hey, I’d even take something that rhymes. Worry. Quarry.”
“Furry.”
“That doesn’t rhyme.”
“Yeah, it does—”
“No. It doesn’t. That only shares three letters—”
“It totally rhymes—”
“Then you’re pronouncing ‘sorry’ as ‘Surrey’—or ‘furry’ like ‘fawrry,’ like you’re four fucking years old and missing a couple of teeth.”
The front door opened, and without skipping a beat, they both spun toward it and pulled out guns. Or rather, L.W. pulled a Smith & Wesson and Shuli shoved his hand uselessly under his arm because of course he hadn’t gone to see the King with any weapons on him.
The good news, though? It wasn’t a lesser they had to take out or some human robber they could decide whether to kill or play mind games with.
Lyric’s twin, Rhamp, came right into the house. The guy was dressed to be out in the field, his dark hair pulled back in man bun territory, a fresh pair of shitkickers on, the scent of firearms and honed steel preceding him. All of which was business as usual. What was not normal? His laconic attitude was nowhere in sight.
In fact, he looked like his nuts were in a vise.
“Thank fuck you two are together,” the guy said roughly. “I need you both to come with me. Don’t ask any questions, and no, I don’t want to talk about it after, either.”
L.W. and Shuli glanced at each other.
“Gimme a minute to change and get my guns,” Shuli said as he hit the stairs at a dead run.
CHAPTER TWENTY
As the wind whipped around and the cold was a pickpocket with deft hands, Lyric waited in the alley next to Bathe, right by the emergency exit. No way any lessers would come near such a busy place. After all, there was only one rule in the war between the vampires and the Lessening Society: Leave humans out of it. The lower the profile, the better, especially in these modern times with all the surveillance downtown.
Looking to her left, she trained her eyes along the darkened alley. The lane ran all the way through to the far side at the rear of the club, and the glow of Jefferson Street traffic back there and the hot spots that lit up that thoroughfare were enough to make shadows out of all the pedestrians looking for fun and games.
Meanwhile, in the other direction, she glanced out to what she’d come to think of as Dev’s and her intersection. Everything had started there—
“Allhan!” As she blurted the name, she started fumbling to get her cell. “Oh, crap. I forgot about you—”
One by one, three males re-formed around her in a semi-circle: Her twin brother was the first to arrive. Then L.W., and finally Shuli. None of them were in clubbing clothes, not that L.W. ever downshifted from the togs of war.
“Thank Lassiter,” she said under her breath as she shoved the phone back into its zippered pocket.
Jumping forward, she hugged her brother. “Thank you so much for coming—and you guys as well.”
“Like we wouldn’t.” Rhamp set her back with a grim curse. “Now, what the fuck is going on? You saw a lesser? Around here?”
As the males started glaring into the shadows, she shook her head. “No, it’s a couple of blocks away. More like a quarter of a mile, actually. I was… well, I smelled one—”
“What are you doing out here alone?” Rhamp demanded. “Does anybody know you’re here?”
“Well, you do now.” She waved away his questions. “Not important. I want you guys—can you just go… listen, I’m just asking you to—”
“Kill it,” L.W. said. As if they were talking about a cockroach she’d found under the sink.
“Yes.” Her throat closed up as she remembered the stench—or maybe that was her fear for Dev taking over. “I mean, I can’t do that—”
“No—”
“—you—”
“—can’t!”
The guys all said the same thing at once. Which was kind of galling. There were females who fought in the war. Payne and Xhex, and Paradise and Novo, were every bit as deadly as the Brothers, and then there were the human women who had been turned by the Omega’s son into slayers. But now was not the time to squabble about gender equality in the proverbial workplace.
“I can take you right over to the building. Let’s go—”
Rhamp caught her arm as she turned away toward Market. “You’re going to tell us the address and we’ll take it from there. You go home.”