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)
“Not particularly,” I tell him. “It’s just something Xavier said. Sirens are my ice cream truck.”
“Come again?”
“You know how kids go running when they hear an ice cream truck? The same thing when I hear sirens. It could be a hunter thing because we all do.”
“Yes, agree. We do like to run towards danger.”
“Not tonight, though. I need to be on my best behavior besides, I have enough going on.”
“I had no idea what your life was like after you left,” he begins and sweeps his hand out at the hotel. “This is not what I would’ve imagined.”
“Trust me,” I agree. “Me neither.”
We sit in silence together, eating the food.
“That witch,” Antonio begins. “Do you think you could trust her?”
“I do,” I tell him. “Maybe I shouldn’t because I don’t know her well enough and I’ll be the first to admit that I have always wanted to find other witches I confess, though it’s not necessarily a secret.”
“I do think her timing is odd,” Antonio says, agreeing with Xavier and Theo. “But it’s not like you’re exactly hidden. I don’t know how other witches can tell other witches apart. You’re pretty well known just because of your ties to Xavier.”
“Right. She knew my family and said I look like one of my relatives.” My heart starts to speed up, and for a few seconds I wish I could just not think about the stupid fucking demon. “It’s like I’m so close to getting what I want, but then something comes up and pushes it just out of the way again,” I say, thankful I can be open and honest with Antonio like this.
Before I was given to the Maluses, and probably before Antonio died and came back, I would not have been able to talk to him this freely. I’ve always trusted him with my life—probably more than anyone else—but I never escaped his judgment prior to this.
“We’re lucky this place serves food,” I tell Antonio, picking up another cheeseball. “When it’s strictly a vampire event, there’s nothing to eat.”
Antonio chuckles. “I suppose that makes sense. Why serve food no one‘s going to eat?”
“When that’s the case I usually sneak off to a bar to get something to eat. Leaving kinda opens me up to following sirens, so…” I stamp my foot down dramatically. “I’m staying put tonight.”
But the sirens don’t fade.
They get louder.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
You have got to be fucking kidding me. I look at Antonio, mouth agape, not believing what I’m actually seeing. We get up and go to the side of the little courtyard, looking out at the street.
“Are they all coming here?”
Looks like it,” he says, and then turns to me, amused. “You know what they say. If you don’t go looking for trouble, trouble comes to you.”
I stare at him blankly. “Nobody says that.”
He laughs. “I just did.”
“Hilarious,” I deadpan. “Wait, are those news vans?”
“Oh, shit. The news doesn’t follow along behind the cops unless it’s something interesting.”
“We should get back inside. Where I will stay put.” Antonio and I grab our empty plates and go back to the event hall. I find Xavier, telling myself that whatever is going on is none of my business. Law-enforcement exists for a reason and they can do their job and handle it.
“There she is. You're a pretty bride,” the old man Xavier was talking to coos as I come over. “I was just telling your husband here about our supper club.” He claps Xavier on the back and he laughs. “He’s such a good politician I forget he can’t eat.”
“Oh, he eats,” I say, looking at Xavier with lust. “All the time.”
The old man doesn’t get it at first but then laughs and congratulates Xavier on having a young and active wife before we are able to get away.
“Did you hear the ice cream truck?” I ask Xavier, linking my arm through his. Being physically close to him brings me a comfort that I cannot explain.
“I did. There were several. You didn’t get any ice cream.”
“I know. Even though I could really go for a Dilly Bar right now.” I can tell by Xavier’s blank stare he has no idea what that is. “It’s a kind of ice cream.”
We’re making rounds again when Xavier stops, turning to look at the main doors. A few seconds later, security comes in, finding whoever is in charge of the event. I nudge Xavier, silently conveying my concerns.
“There is a domestic dispute between hotel guests,” he tells me, able to hear the conversation from across the room. “Doesn’t seem demonic.”
“That’s a relief.”
“One guest has a gun and is threatening to shoot the other and anyone in their way.”
“Okay, I take my relief statement back.” No matter how many monsters I’ve faced, an active shooter will always be one of the most terrifying things to come up against. It’s such a cowardly way to hurt people.