Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
The burlier of the two met his gaze steadily, much like Wynter herself often did. “My name is Rafe,” he replied. “This here is Griff. As you may have guessed, we were sent here by the Aeons.” The man didn’t seem at all happy about it.
Azazel walked behind the sofa. “For what purpose?”
Rafe didn’t glance over his shoulder at the Ancient. “They want me to try to ‘reason with Wynter’ and appeal for her to come home.”
Cain went very still. “Neither of you will be speaking with Wynter, and she will not be leaving with you either. She stays here.”
“I figured you’d say that,” said Rafe, seeming relieved. “I warned them you probably would, but they insisted that I ask. They thought maybe she’d agree to see me.”
“Why you?”
“Aside from her mother and grandmother, I’m the only person in the coven who gave a damn about her. She was like a niece to me. So they sent me as a friendly face.”
“Without an entourage?”
“We didn’t request to be accompanied by one,” said Rafe. “We were teleported to a spot just beyond the border. I don’t believe others were teleported here after us, but I can’t be sure. The Aeons would veto telling me such a thing as they wouldn’t trust that I’d keep a promise not to warn Wynter.”
“Well, now that we’ve established that you won’t be granted an audience with her, tell me why you also asked to speak with me.”
“Lailah wishes to have a one-to-one talk with you using Griff—he is a conduit.”
The piano music abruptly cut off.
Cain barely refrained from lifting his brows in surprise at Rafe’s declaration. Conduits were rare these days. They could provide a psychic space that allowed people in various locations to communicate. “Is that so?”
Griff swallowed nervously. “She’s already there waiting.”
Cain had guessed as much, considering she’d had to have touched Griff in order to project her consciousness to the psychic space.
“She said to tell you that you’ll want to hear what she has to say,” Griff added.
“Hmm.” Cain gave both Azazel and Dantalion a brief look that warned them to pull him out of the conversation if need be, because what better way to take Cain off-guard than to drag his consciousness into a psychic space where he’d be oblivious to what went on outside of it?
Griff held out his hand, his fingers splayed. Cain pressed his fingertips to those of Griff, and then his surroundings altered in a flash.
Taking cover behind a cluster of trees, Wynter skimmed her gaze along the men stood around the clearing. She counted eleven, in total. There were all tall, armed, and powerfully built.
“Do you recognize any of them?” whispered Delilah.
“Yup,” Wynter replied, her voice just as low. “They’re keepers from Aeon.” Even if she hadn’t known each face, she’d have identified their origins by the distinctive insignia on their swords—most of which also sported runes, courtesy of her magick. Her monster easily recognized the men too and, not a fan of how they’d treated Wynter over the years, it was not at all happy about their presence.
Anabel sidled closer, hugging herself and biting her lip. “Keepers are like enforcers, right?”
“They’re mostly executioners,” said Wynter. “But they’ll also act as enforcers, messengers, or bodyguards—whatever the Aeons want them to be.”
“So minions, basically,” Anabel surmised.
“Assholes, too. Especially the one with the crew cut and the scraggly beard. He used to harass the hell out of my mom. He acted like a real prick toward her when she refused to date him.” Fort had also flashed Wynter several seriously creepy smiles over recent years, commenting on how she looked so much like Davina.
Xavier licked the front of his teeth. “It’s a pretty small force, so I doubt they’re here for war.”
Wynter’s thoughts exactly. “The Aeons won’t have sent them here to start a battle. It would be senseless. Such a low number would never survive it.”
“Oh, what a spectacular behind,” Hattie whispered, ogling a keeper who’d bent over to wipe his boot.
Delilah gently bumped the old woman’s shoulder with her own. “Not sure if you’re paying attention to the conversation we’re having here, but these are very bad men.”
“Oh, I know,” said Hattie with a small wave of her hand. “I do love a bad boy, though. Admit it, we all do.”
Delilah frowned. “Not goddamn executioners, Hattie.”
Xavier raised his hand for silence. “And we have yet another keeper, apparently.”
It would seem so, because a burly male who Wynter also recognized stalked into the clearing. She felt the corners of her eyes tighten. “Cletus,” she bit out.
Xavier’s brows met. “I’m getting the feeling I should loathe Cletus. Why should I loathe him?”
“He likes to take from women what they don’t want to give,” she fudged.
Fort turned to fully face Cletus. “Well?”
“No sign of Wynter anywhere,” replied Cletus. “I told you it’d be a waste of time. The Ancients will be keeping her in their underground city.”