Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Zeke was already tossing pieces of stone and debris behind him when I joined him on the pile. The Luftwaffe had been hammering London for months, and the results were catastrophic. We’d spent the better part of our time in England searching for survivors in the mess they left behind.
America hadn’t joined the war, but anyone could see that their involvement was inevitable. The president was fooling himself if he believed that the mad Austrian would ever stop in Europe. The United States was unwilling to send troops, and for once, that included the Vampire legion who’d been guarding their shores since 1785. It was a mistake of massive proportions. Roosevelt was fully aware that our kind had flatly refused to support the Austrian. The Vampire Federation was morally opposed to demonizing any group the way the Nazis had, which made any alliance with them impossible. Vampires who had joined the Fuhrer were quickly and quietly erased from existence.
So we’d been forbidden from the fight, our hands tied. We had, however, been sent as a humanitarian force. I wasn’t happy about it, the awareness that I could be making a difference like a spider crawling over my skin, even as I slept. Only the knowledge that our brothers, Chance and Danny, were currently spying from different resistance cells in France and Poland kept me from breaking. I looked up at the sky. Nearly noon. My oldest brother Ambrose should be halfway to Switzerland with a group of children. We’d know in a few days if they’d made it.
“Why here?” Zeke asked under his breath. “We could be anywhere.”
“This is where we were sent,” I reminded him.
“To clear rubble?” He shook his head. “There are more dead bodies on this street than live ones.”
“I know,” I breathed, reaching for another piece of the crushed building. I could smell the bodies too, their stench mixed in with the scent of soot and garbage.
“Who are we saving? What difference are we making?”
“Patience,” I murmured. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“How many will be dead by then?” he hissed, straightening. “What is the point in all this?”
“Keep your voice down.”
“It’s insanity, Bjorn,” he barked, making me jerk in surprise. He hadn’t used my childhood name in years.
“Lower your voice,” I ordered again. The last thing we needed was to bring attention to ourselves. Our cover was excellent, our reasons for being in England mundane, but if anyone looked too closely, everything could go to hell. Our existence was a closely held secret within the top levels of many governments for good reason. Historically, the human population was anything but welcoming to anyone perceived as other. The human war we were in the middle of was living and dying proof of that.
“Please,” a weak voice called out. “Please, I’m in here!”
My entire body jolted with recognition, and Zeke’s gaze flashed to mine.
“No,” he whispered, fear filling his eyes.
We started in on the pile again, my knuckles bleeding as I clawed my way into it. The debris created a large mound as we tossed it behind us, every second feeling like an hour until large brown eyes and curly dark hair came into view.
It felt as if I’d been submerged for a lifetime, and I’d finally come up for air. Her face was covered in dust, and there was a long scratch down her cheek. Her nose was thin and upturned at the end, her lips a perfect cupid’s bow, and her eyelashes were long and clumped together with tears and grime.
She was mine. I’d been waiting my entire life for her, and here she was, on a random street in London, buried under hundreds of pounds of rubble.
“Are you hurt?” Zeke asked, pulling more debris away.
“I don’t think so,” she said, using her hands to shove at the opening. “Please get me out.”
“Well, we’ve gotten this far,” I said slowly as I grabbed a large piece of brick and yanked it away from her. “I don’t think we’ll stop now.”
She let out a little huff of laughter, and my stomach tightened into a knot. “Good news,” she murmured tearfully. I could smell her blood, but most of it had already dried. She wasn’t badly hurt. The scent still nearly brought me to my knees.
“Is anyone else with you?” Zeke asked, grunting comically as he jerked the last piece of rubble away.
“No,” she said, shaking as she made to stand up.
I’d just reached out to her when a deep voice from down the street made the woman turn.
“Millie,” he yelled.
“Alan,” she called back, her face crumpling. “Alan, I’m here!”
“Millie,” he yelled again, the anguish in his voice making it break.
Before Zeke or I could move, he was scrambling over the mess, reaching for the woman we’d uncovered.
“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice hoarse as he pulled her out of the hole. “Oh, my love.”