The Wrath – Rise of the Warlords Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
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He took her hand, tugged her to her feet, and flashed her to the vampire’s cell in the dungeon. Perhaps the bloodsucker knew how Azar planned to trace the skull’s location, perhaps not. But by the end of the session, Rathbone would have an answer one way or another.

The male’s chest wound had closed, shielding his new internal organs. He lay on the stone gurney, still bound by chains. Wide awake, he cried, “Please don’t hurt me.”

Releasing Neeka, Rathbone stalked to the table scattered with his tools. “I have new information, greater determination, and boiling menace. Before I finish with you, you will tell me what I wish to know.”

“Uh, Red Dragon. I’m not having a vision or anything, but this is a moment you’ll want me to speak, I’m certain of it.” The oracle raised her hand, as if seeking permission to go on. “If you’d be so kind as to allow me the honors...”

Neeka skipped over without permission, as guileless as she was carnal. His insides clenched. She jumped onto the stone, straddled the vampire, and smiled sweetly at him—before shoving her fingers into his eye sockets. Her victim bowed his back and unleashed an agonized scream.

Rathbone bent to put his face in front of hers. “What are you doing?” And okay, yes, he was a little in awe of her right now. Such a cruel act from such a delicate-looking female...

Was there anything sweeter?

“I’m digging around in his past,” she explained. “Among other things. Believe it or not, this is the easiest way to establish the necessary bond to acquire the answers you seek. And yes, I expect to be in the running for Employee of the Day.”

The vampire bucked and sobbed, thick red blood running down his cheeks.

Neeka closed her lids to concentrate. Different emotions played over her features. Confusion. Interest. Amusement. Anger. Resignation. She tsk-tsked. “Oh, Mr. Vamp. Off Santa’s good boy list you go. What a naughty, naughty boy.”

“Tell me,” Rathbone demanded, his curiosity caught. Not that she heard him. He reached over to gently squeeze her shoulder.

“Okay, here’s the lowdown,” she said, understanding his gesture. “He’s a spy for the Memory Keeper. But you already knew that. While he doesn’t know how Azar is tracking Lore—that is what you’re wondering, right?—he’s learned a ton of stuff about you and your kingdom. He’s been cataloguing everything, in fact. Determining the measurements of the bedrooms by the pattern of your footsteps. Listening to whispers. Studying your strengths and weaknesses.”

“Funny,” Rathbone deadpanned for the vampire’s benefit, even as curses bellowed in his head. “I have no weaknesses.”

“Azar can access the vampire’s memory remotely,” she continued. “He’s already watched your previous interactions, I’d bet my life on it. Well, maybe not my life, but definitely yours.”

The vampire went quiet and stilled, as if the pain had never truly bothered him. A startling change. Rathbone huffed with indignation. What else had the soldier lied about?

Neeka opened her eyes and plucked her fingers free. “That’s it. That’s all I got.”

“Harpies and Astra are allies, oracle,” the blood-drinker stated, seeming genuinely confused. Of course, he’d seemed genuinely frightened only moments ago. “Why are you doing this?”

She hiked her shoulders, saying, “Because I have a payday. Why else?”

Greedy wench. The exact opposite of Lore, who’d only ever demanded his body. So why did this female intrigue him?

Rathbone scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn’t used to bewilderment. Or admiring someone other than his mate or his uncle. Could he trust the oracle?

One thing he discerned as absolute fact. “The vampire dies now.” He swiped a jagged stake from the table. “The Memory Keeper will learn the depths of loss.” As I have. “This is only the start.”

“Nope.” The oracle hopped to the floor and wiped her hands on the waist of Rathbone’s leathers. “He lives.”

Still worked up after Lore’s visit—surely—he hardened, straining his zipper in a matter of seconds.

Neeka noticed his erection at long last and did a double-take. “Um. You... I... Um. I realize my desire to spare him arouses you. Err, arouses your suspicions. About my loyalties. You probably think I’m a spy like the vamp.” She ran her bottom lip between her teeth, her stare morphing into a leer. Tone noticeably throatier, she said, “Let me clear things up. I’m what you call a working girl grinding hard—very hard—for a paycheck. Congrats on having such an impressive meat stick, by the way.”

He nearly choked on his tongue. The heat growing in his cheeks had nothing to do with being flustered. “Yes. Well. Nothing you say will convince me to spare the prisoner.”

“Not even if my instinct tells me he’s valuable to us? That we’ll need him in the future.” And still she stared.

His grip on the stake constricted. Think! There was something he must point out. An inconsistency that bothered him...


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