Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Greta, piercing green eyes behind half-glasses and a precisely cut red bob against translucent skin no mortal would ever possess, pursed her lips. “I need none of that when you’ve been sitting here staring off into the clouds every morning this week. I should tell the sire.”
Elena scowled. “Hey, no narcing.” Not that Raphael didn’t already know of her continuing shock…and fear.
Such hard, brutal fear that it choked her.
The only reason he wasn’t with her right then was that he’d had to fly out to handle a situation in Nimra’s territory. Nothing catastrophic, but it was educational for certain vampire kisses to feel the wrath of their archangel once in a while. Especially young kisses led by charismatic vampires who believed they could take blood from the unwilling because “It is our right as near-immortals. Humans are cattle to be slaughtered.”
Nimra could have executed the leader without problem, but his poisonous “teachings” had reached too many pliable ears before he came to her attention. “I believe, sire,” the Louisiana angel had said to Raphael, “it may be time for a punishment that causes enough terror to eliminate that line of thinking before it takes further root.”
It sounded vicious, but Elena was a hunter. She understood that vampires like Greta and Dmitri, their deadly urges under iron control, had counterparts far less disciplined. She’d seen firsthand what vampires on a rampage could do, borne witness to the torn-out throats and ripped-off limbs, heard the desperate wetness of sound as a woman tried to stanch her severed femoral artery while the life leached out of her and into a vampire’s mouth.
Elena had put a crossbow bolt through the vampire’s heart—but she’d been too late to save his victim.
Far better to stop the carnage before it ever got that far.
Greta nudged Elena’s shoulder with her own. “Greta is a timeless name. Though I suppose you could use Gretan if you have a male progeny, or Grentany for a gender-neutral choice. Gretana. Gretalika. Gretam. The choices are endless.”
Jolted out of her dark thoughts by the absurdity delivered in Greta’s deadpan tone, Elena snorted out a laugh.
No laughter from her friend. Pushing down those glasses she most definitely didn’t need, she said, “I’m insulted.”
Elena’s laughter intensified, until even Greta’s lips twitched.
“If only Aodhan could see and hear you now,” Elena managed to get out. Very few people ever experienced the other woman’s dazzlingly dry sense of humor—which Aodhan also possessed, ironically enough.
The first time Elena had really truly talked to the admin, she’d understood one thing. “You’re bored,” she’d said to the woman who sat aloof and remote in her isolated Tower office—so much so that Elena hadn’t even known of her existence for an entire year after returning to the city post-coma. She’d been mortified—only to realize it was by design.
Greta’s deepest nightmare was to have to socialize.
But she’d been polite to Elena that day as Elena said, “Not bored in your work. You like that.” That was why Greta was still with the Tower—because Dmitri and Venom treated her as an extra limb, which meant she dealt with complex issues as a matter of course. “But the rest of existence bores you.”
A flat look. “I’m older than the Tower many times over. There’s not much I haven’t seen and done. I only stick around because Dmitri and that far-too-slick-for-his-own-good Venom make sure to keep my brain busy—the idea of immuring myself in solitude and silence like some of my kind do when they are old and tired seems a horror to me.
“I’d rather find a friendly warrior and get decapitated when I’ve had enough. Dmitri would probably do it if I gave him appropriate notice.” She’d capped her fountain pen with a decisive snick of sound. “The end. Nice and clean.”
To this day, Elena wasn’t sure why she hadn’t taken the not-so-subtle hint and ended the conversation there. Crouching down to scritch Greta’s new black kitten behind her pointed ears, she’d instead said, “Come with me tonight. I promise you a new experience.”
A raised eyebrow. “Orgies, raves, drugs, I’ve tried them all, Consort. But thank you for the offer.” A genuine enough statement. “Truly, please don’t worry about me. I am as content as is possible given my age.”
Elena would’ve left it alone any other day, hesitant to overstep—but then the kitten had headbutted her palm and she’d decided to take it as encouragement. “Humor me,” she’d said. “It’s not an order, to be clear. I just think you might enjoy this. Why not come along—you can retreat back into your lair—I mean office—the minute you find it boring.”
Greta had looked about as excited as if she were about to get her teeth removed. With pliers. Without anesthetic. “Of course. You are mostly not annoying, so I will give you an hour.”
“You have no fear, do you, Greta?”