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)
“Older than dirt,” had been the response. “What are you going to do? Smite me? Go ahead. It’ll be something new, at least.”
So it was that Elena and Greta had gone out that night.
To a three a.m. party at Guild HQ.
7
Angels might scare us, but hunters scare most other people—including a lot of vampires. Reassure them. Convince them we’re civilized.
—A Retiring Guild Director to the Incoming Guild Director (Once, when a Slayer fell in Love with a Hunter)
Elena and Greta had arrived at the HQ to find a hunter shimmying his way across a rope strung up on the ceiling of a training salle that hadn’t changed all that much over the centuries…while his drunk compatriots threw blades at him that he attempted to dodge without falling off.
“What!” the climber had yelled when Elena questioned the sanity of such an act. “I’m wearing a stab-proof vest and pants!”
“Mortals and immortals being idiots is a fact with which I’m unfortunately familiar,” Greta had said in her usual flat tone. “Did you know certain angels once dared each other to jump into boiling lava? Sense cannot be taught to imbeciles.”
Shoulders shaking, Elena had said, “No, not that. Come on.” Leaving the drunken idiots to their shenanigans, she’d led Greta to a basement room thick with cigar smoke.
“Ellie, you’re late!” Malik, all long legs, perfect bone structure, and tightly curled hair against bronzed skin, had kicked out a chair for her even as he spoke. “Who’s the killer redhead?”
“Greta.” No further explanation. “Deal her in.”
Cards? Truly, Consort? That Greta’s mental voice was crystalline was no surprise; the woman had to be a power given her closest colleagues. Having Dmitri and Venom in your head on a regular basis wasn’t for the weak.
I show no emotion, have zero tells, the other woman had added. It will be embarrassing how quickly I decimate this group—after which I will go home. There is only so far I’m willing to extend myself even for you.
Go on, Elena had challenged, let’s see how fast you can clear us out.
They’d stumbled out of Guild HQ as dawn was breaking, their metaphorical pockets much lighter, and Greta so stunned that she hadn’t spoken for the past hour. “How?” she’d muttered as they’d blinked against the morning light. “How does that mortal with his ridiculous lime-green vest, and equally ridiculously pretty face, fool us with such ease? I know I have no tells!”
Elena had shrugged. “He’s a fucking shark—and hella fun to play with.” Malik, with his charming grin and playful eyes, had reminded her of Demarco from their first meeting. High likelihood he was a descendant. After all, the man had left behind a dynasty after siring seven children with the tattooist wife he’d adored to his last breath.
“How do you know so many degenerates?” Greta had muttered even as she smoothed her hair and sniffed at the fitted sleeve of her black pantsuit. “Ugh, I hate the smell of cigars.”
Yet she’d continued to come to card nights with Malik and the crew, until one dawn, Greta hadn’t returned home to the Tower.
Her and Malik’s relationship had lasted his entire mortal lifetime. The hunter had been one of the few people who’d ever challenged Greta. He’d also loved her with all of his huge heart, and when he died, Greta had tattooed his name over her own heart in a process that was beyond painful—and had to be redone yearly due to her level of vampiric healing.
“I want to feel the pain,” she’d said. “Malik deserves my pain, my memory. I waited an eternity for him and I had him for six precious decades. The memory of what we were together—and who I was with him—will carry me to the end of my existence.”
Elena had never seen Greta cry, not once, but she’d sat in silence with her many a night while the other woman smoked Malik’s favorite cigar, their friendship formed while neither one of them was looking.
Now, Greta gripped the edge of the roof and stared out at the clouds. “I never wanted to have children, not even when I was mortal. It was hard to avoid in those days, you understand, but I managed.”
“How did you figure it out?” Elena spread one hand over her abdomen.
“I’ve always been able to tell when a woman is with child—maybe I am part witch as was once rumored.” A shrug. “Or maybe it’s because I saw you eat five raspberry-chocolate tartlets just an hour ago, then follow them up with a pickle sandwich. After which you drank the pickle juice.” A shudder. “You might as well be wearing a flashing sign.”
Groaning, Elena made a mental note to stop with the sudden urge to inhale everything in sight…even as her mouth watered at the mention of pickles.
“As I was saying,” Greta continued before Elena could reply. “I am not a children person, and part of that is because I can’t imagine being responsible for a tiny creature’s life.”