Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
It fucking hurts.
“Even when we kill this demon,” Antonio starts, and I love him for saying when and not if, “the Order isn’t just going to go away.”
“I know,” I tell him. “They’ll be even more mad.”
“They’ll come after you, Wren. Knowing they spent thousands of dollars, manipulated the system, cheated and lied in an attempt to hurt you, but in the end you still came out on top. That’s a whole new level of embarrassment for them. The Order isn’t going to take it well. This whole situation wasn’t supposed to happen and I can’t help but wonder…Never mind.”
“You have to say it,” I tell him. “You can’t leave me hanging now.”
“Fine,” he huffs. “I can’t help but wonder if things would be like this if Larissa had come here. We both know Xavier wouldn’t care about her the same way he cares about you. Vampires can’t hold witches spellbound, so you were definitely not part of the plan.”
“So you agree with me: Larissa fucks everything up.”
He just gives me a look. “She’s made things exponentially more difficult, I will agree.”
I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead and let out a sigh. Anxiety bubbles inside me, but it’s not just my fear I’m feeling. This is one of those times where I am not the biggest fan of being able to sense other people’s emotions.
“You’re right,” I tell Antonio. “We do need to come up with a plan and our regular resources aren’t gonna help us.”
“I hate when you do that.”
“I do, too,” I chide. “My own feelings are enough to deal with.”
Antonio picks a leaf from a tree and starts ripping it into little pieces. “I really don’t want to say what I’m thinking but you can probably already guess it so I’ll just say it: for the first time, I don’t know what to do, Wren. We can’t use the Order’s archives. We can’t even somehow get Leo to. If anyone finds out we’re trying to get info on that specific demon, they’ll stop us. I can’t ask anyone about how the Order stores important artifacts like a demonic sigil because they all think I’m dead and if they realize I’m alive they’ll kill me because I know the truth.”
Despite the heat, a chill goes down my back. “You’re forgetting one thing,” I tell him, voice shaking.
“What is it?”
“It’s not just us against the Order. It’s the Order against the Malus family. We both know they won’t go down without a fight.”
Antonio looks at me for a second before turning and throwing the torn bits of leaf onto the ground. This time, he definitely doesn’t have to say it for me to know what he’s thinking. We might not carry out some elaborate plan to sneak into the Order’s vault, steal the sigil, and break whatever enchantment that’s on it, not really hurting anyone.
Xavier told me himself he’ll stop at nothing and there are no lines he won’t cross. He’ll do whatever it takes to save me, not caring about the consequences. And if it comes to that, I should stop him, tell him there are other ways and remind him that not everyone in the Order deserves to die.
But right now, it would feel like a lie to say that. And that terrifies me because I’m starting to realize there might not be an uncrossable line for me anymore.
Chapter
Seven
“Wow, I look great.” I blink a few times, looking at my reflection in Mabel’s dresser mirror.
“Don’t act so surprised,” Mabel tells me. “You always look great.”
“Yeah,” I say, not wanting to disagree. “I guess I don’t feel that great right now,” I confess.
“I can only imagine,” Mabel replies and her evergreen optimism fades from her face for a fleeting moment, but that moment makes my heart skip a beat in fear “You’ll figure it out. You always do. Don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I tell her, trying to believe it. “So far, I have.”
Someone knocks on the door, waiting just a beat before coming in. It’s Devon, and he’s holding my purse and cell phone. He pauses, looking at me with wide eyes, and then steps over.
“You have a ton of texts and calls from Delphi,” he says as he hands me the phone.
“Thank you,” I say and quickly unlock the phone. “I can’t believe it’s not dead.”
“It was. Xavier had then charged it on the drive over.”
“Oh, smart,” I say and glance up. “Any word on Antonio’s truck?”
“Not yet, but someone from the police department is reviewing CCTV footage to find out what happened to it. Someone drives it out of the parking lot and heads west. We’ll find it,” he says confidently.
I nod, working hard to ignore the internal clock that’s loudly clicking. Day one is almost over, and we’re headed downtown for a press conference. Tomorrow will be day two, and then I’ll have twenty-eight days left.