Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
And he would do it all with his sleeves rolled up so he wouldn’t get his designer shirt bloody.
“Whatever is going on,” I continue. “The Order is making a mistake going up against the Maluses. It would be nice to be a step ahead and stop them before anyone has to get hurt. But I would say that’s wishful thinking.”
“I really hate to say this again, Wren,” Antonio starts, looking at me as he picks up the pace again. “I think we need Ryder. You guys seem to be able to get along.”
“Getting along was never the issue,” I reply honestly. “We always got along.” I no longer feel the need to get into it. I really do think, at his core, Ryder is a good person. What happened between us was horrible and tragic and, yeah, could have been avoided if he had any semblance of a spine. He lied right to my face, promised me safety and love and a life together.
And that was wrong. It was mean. It hurt so much to have everything ripped out from underneath me like I meant nothing.
But now, I see things clearly and it also hurts him. He’s the one who has to live with what he did, and not only does he have to live with the pain of losing the person he loved, but he will forever have to live with the fact that he was a coward.
He couldn’t stand up for himself.
“Then what’s the problem?” Leo asks, already sounding a little out of breath. Running with a hangover is no joke. “You seem like you’ve forgiven him.”
“I have,” I reply. “It’ll be fine.” I force a smile and pick up the pace. The issue isn’t me at all. I really have forgiven Ryder. If I’m being totally honest, I feel bad for him too. But he hurt me, and once Xavier finds out everything that happened, he’ll want to hurt him too.
Chapter
Fifteen
The sun is setting by the time we get back to the house. It’s been a while since I’ve covered that much distance during a run, and if I’m feeling it, then Leo certainly is as well. We eat, and then I go upstairs to take a shower.
Mental exhaustion crashes down on me and I turn the water on, pausing outside the large shower to let the water warm up. I close my eyes, trying to clear my mind.
Florence.
Quickly inhaling, I open my eyes and turn around. There’s no one but me in here, and the door is shut behind me. But I know that voice, and the pin-prick in the center of my right palm starts to burn and I try to shut the demon out.
Tick-tock, Florence.
The demon speaks to me using the woman’s voice. A chill runs through me and I shake myself, holding out my hands defensively.
“Get out,” I whisper and imagine white light encasing my body, acting like a shield. What I’m doing isn’t magic, but a basic technique taught to us by the Order. Demons often try to get in your head when you’re hunting them. They try to confuse you, fill you with doubts, or make you not trust your reality.
I’ve never had one talk directly to me like this.
Balling my fingers into fists, I exhale heavily and whirl around, looking in the mirror. I’m naked, about to get in the shower, but that doesn’t stop me from staring right into my own eyes.
“If you’re in my head, get the fuck out,” I say through gritted teeth. “Or help me out a bit here. You want freedom more than you want my soul.” Suddenly feeling like the grasp on my mind has been lifted, I exhale and close my eyes in a long blink. The pain in my right hand is gone, but when I look at my hand, the center of my palm is bright red and irritated, just like it was when the demon stabbed it with the tip of the quill.
I rub the center of my palm with my thumb, annoyed that now both hands are injured again, and then get in the shower. The water stings both hands and I internally grumble at how difficult it’s going to be to shampoo my hair.
I manage, and shower rather quickly, eager to go through the Book of Shadows Mabel’s friend gave me. Maybe there’s something in there that could help me sever whatever connection the demon has with me. Signing in the contract in my own blood bound us, and being blood-bound to anything is never good.
Only wrapped in a towel, I go out of the bathroom and into the room, sinking down on the bed.
Tick-tock, Florence.
My heart skips a beat and I can’t tell if I’m remembering what was said or if the demon’s voice is echoing in my head. Over and and over. Again and again, reminding me that I don’t have much time left before my contract is up.