Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Lachlan looked off into the distance, twisting his mouth.
“And he’s got nothing,” said Naomi.
He frowned. “I was thinking. You didn’t give me a chance to answer.”
“You don’t have an answer.”
“I don’t see the problem in making our statement in a very definitive way. In the name of the sanctity of retaliation—”
“Don’t,” interrupted Naomi, throwing up a hand. “Just don’t. I honestly can’t with you.”
“You sound like my daughter,” he complained.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Raini’s awesome. Now I really should get back to work.” Naomi rose to her feet. “Tobe . . .”
He exhaled heavily. “I’ll do as you ask and not retaliate.”
“That was a lie,” she accused.
“Of course it was. We tried things your way. It didn’t work. We let Belinsky try things his way. That didn’t work either. Now it’s time to step things up, and nothing you say will talk me out of it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Once Tobe and the others had left, Naomi returned to her position at the hostess station. It was hard to be her usual gracious self when frustration simmered in her blood. Frustration at Iain, at Tobe, at her inability to convince her anchor to hang back. So her every smile was stiff, her every “Enjoy your meal” empty. As such, it was a relief when the end of her shift rolled around.
Hooking the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she said her goodbyes and left the restaurant. Her skin prickled as the cool evening breeze whispered over her. Damn, she should have brought a jacket.
No less annoyed than she had been earlier, her pace was faster than usual. Strident, even. But it faltered when she felt someone watching her. Again.
She couldn’t help but frown. Unless Luka had released Iain, it couldn’t be him. It didn’t seem likely that the legion would have let him go so soon. As such, there’d be no reason why Luka would have put a tail on her already.
Whoever was following her had to be the person who’d followed her all the way to the pizzeria. She’d thought it was Iain. But now? Well, it could be the PI. She doubted it was clerics—if there were more, surely they would have attacked before now.
In her current mood, she wasn’t feeling inclined to ignore that someone thought it acceptable to shadow her. She couldn’t confront them here and now, though. A few humans lived around these parts, and there were plenty of things they shouldn’t see.
What she needed to do was lure her follower to an isolated spot where there’d be no CCTV. And she knew just the place.
She headed for the nearby industrial space that her lair owned. Many of them used the place to store items that had “fallen out of a truck” or to privately engage in other illegal activities, but that was off-topic.
Reaching it, she walked to a spot where no human eyes would be able to see shit. Then she turned, ready to face her tail. “Come out, come out, whoever the hell you are,” she sang.
Someone stepped out of the shadows . . . but it wasn’t the PI. Nor were any of the six other people who inched forward to gather near him. All were strangers, but the emblems on their black clothes told them exactly who she was facing.
Motherfucker.
Did they always travel in groups of seven? Maybe. If she recalled rightly, it was considered a holy number in the Bible. That could have something to do with it.
“Where are they?” the cleric in the center of the group demanded, his piercing eyes flinty, his square jaw hard. Like the others, he appeared freshly shaved, had not one hair on his head, and was armed with a sword that gleamed with magick.
Naomi went for confused. “Excuse me?”
“Our brethren,” he elaborated, impatient. “Where are they? They came for you, and they have since disappeared.”
“Brethren?” she echoed, scrunching her face up, feeling the molten force within her slinking upward in a predatory fashion.
He sneered. “Do not plead ignorance. You must have had something to do with their disappearance, though I fail to understand how.” He looked her up and down in a superior manner.
Well wasn’t he a precious little misogynist.
She shook her head, her skin heating with the power humming just underneath it. That same heat bled outward, upping the temperature. “I have no clue who or what you’re talking about, and I want no part of whatever this is.”
“That is too bad, because we cannot in good conscience allow you to walk away. Not when you will otherwise cause much destruction to this world. Or, more to the point, your future child will.”
Naomi sighed. “Look, Brother John—”
“My name is Adrian.”
“Adrian, whatever. I’ve had something of a shitty evening—”
“And it’s about to get worse.”
For them, yes. Because if they weren’t going to walk away, she had no option but to kill them.