Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
He had to guess that the people around her were her living, breathing purse—
All at once, she stopped, and as she halted, she put her palm up to silence her entourage. In the beats that followed, everything around her went absolutely statue, sure as if she were the breath and the heartbeat of an organism.
That perfectly beautiful face turned and those dark, flashing eyes looked down the hall.
Toward him.
Ah, but he kept himself hidden from the demon, as he had been doing for how long now? And as she searched for him, he thought of Lyric.
He did not want to be here. But he was not leaving.
“Hello, Mother,” he said softly.
* * *
When Lyric materialized in the shadows next to the Caldwell Convention Center’s loading dock, she felt scattered. Everyone had assured her Allhan was way out of the woods, but she just couldn’t seem to shake off the stages of his transition, the violence of it, the pain. He did seem stable, though, and when she’d finally said goodbye to him after they’d moved him down to a bedroom suite, she’d told herself his destiny was in someone else’s hands now.
Other than her own.
But she had done something important. Something that had changed the lives of everybody around her. If Allhan had died, Vishous and Jane would have never been the same, and if they had been taken by that tragedy, the entire Brotherhood, and all the fighters, and all the mates, would have likewise suffered.
One life, but so many ripples, the connections transferred from person to person, invisible strings that were stronger than any rope.
And she had saved them all.
As a renewed flush of feeling went through her, the warmth wasn’t arrogance. She wasn’t proud of herself, or mistaken that she was in some way Lassiter’s existential mini-me. But she was grateful, especially to that angel.
He had indeed given her an opportunity to prove what he’d said about her.
“And now, I am here,” she said into the cold night.
Exhaling, her breath drifted off over her shoulder as she smoothed her hair. She’d taken a super-hot shower at home, and changed into black satin pencil slacks and a borrowed black leather top that had a deep V for a neckline and straight shoulderless sleeves. As she started for the door she was supposed to enter, she was able to walk under a shallow roof, sparing her thigh-high boots the icy assault that had killed her Louboutins.
Then she waited.
As the frigid air seeped into her, she fiddled with the low neckline of the top. And then pulled the right sleeve down farther. The bite wound on her wrist had healed a lot, but there was still a red orbit around the faded twin punctures. To make sure no one noticed, she’d covered everything up with the foundation she used on her face—
A car entered the rear lot, the headlights swinging around. The way it parked grille in, three feet from the entry—despite the fact that there was no designated space there—instantly told her it was Marcia, even if she hadn’t recognized the Audi.
The woman got out with her two cell phones going, yet another variation on her black-suited uniform making an appearance.
But the soon-to-be ex-manager was not the priority.
Lyric took out her cell phone to check the screen. Then she glanced around. Rechecked the screen—
“Well. Look at you.”
Lyric jerked her head up. Marcia had ended the calls and was standing right in front of her.
“Are you sure you want out of this business?” The woman motioned with the phones, up and down. “Because this is another level.”
Lyric looked over Marcia’s head into the parking lot. Which was stupid. Like a human could just materialize out of thin air? Dev would come in a car or on foot. And she’d confirmed there was, in fact, only one loading dock.
She cleared her throat. “Have you—ah, have you seen anybody around here?”
Marcia’s head set on a swivel. “Who are we looking for?”
“Ah, no one.” She glanced down at her phone again. “Really, it’s fine.”
“Let’s do this then.” Marcia went over and rapped on the dented metal door impatiently. “I just called Valentina’s personal assistant. She should be here in a sec.”
There was no handle to pump or knob to turn, and that was probably a good thing. As Marcia all but jogged in place from frustration, she was liable to break off anything that—
The panel swung wide, and a harried woman in a bright purple R2E shirt motioned for them to come in. With a walkie-talking in one hand and a lanyard with a laminated ID around her neck, she was clearly deep in the nuts and bolts of the conference.
As Marcia stepped up with the demands, Lyric glanced over her shoulder. And then had no choice but to enter an industrial hallway that had a concrete floor and all kinds of exposed ductwork and pipes.