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)
“Nah, Vegas with an Elvis impersonator is more Wren’s style,” Antonio teases.
“Hah,” I retort. “Italy would be my top choice. But nowhere touristy. In some little village no one but the locals know about. And it would be small. Nothing crazy. No drone-shots.”
“But those make such good reels,” Mabel presses. “It would go viral!”
“You could have a wedding,” I say to her. “Actually, did you?”
Mabel nods. “I’ll show you the photos tomorrow. We’ve been married for over a century now.”
“That’s a long time,” I say with a yawn. Finishing my cupcake, I take a second to be grateful for my training. Being able to have horrible shit happening all around without freaking out is definitely a learned behavior.
I go upstairs, quickly shower, brush my teeth, and get into bed. Xavier comes into the room right as I turn the light off, stripping out of his clothes and getting into bed with me.
“How are you doing?” he asks as he pulls me into his arms.
“I’m okay.”
“Be honest.” His lips brush against my cheek as he talks.
“I’m stressed. Scared I’m going to run out of time, and Toni made a really point that the demon isn’t sending lesser demons here to speed up the process but to try and watch me, figure out my game plan and then be one step ahead.”
“That is a good point,” Xavier says after a moment of consideration. “I won’t let that happen.”
I’m too tired to ask him how. Right now, I just want to believe him. He runs his fingers up and down my arm, relaxing me.
“It’s funny you mentioned historians earlier or I might not have thought to ask him,” Xavier says softly.
“Ask who?”
“David Fuller. A North Carolina historian. He was able to find records about Abigail.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I didn’t know the name, but the specific cross symbol did belong to the church that used to be that exact location. Abigail Williams was a member of that church and died suspiciously in 1938.”
“What happened to her?”
“They think poison, but back then, they couldn’t be sure. And the only reason they think it was foul play was because in the weeks leading up to her death, several members of the church spoke against her, accusing her of being a witch.”
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The metallic whirl of the automatic blinds coming down, wakes me. I sit up, pulling out of Xavier‘s embrace. He’s asleep, and his arms around me are heavy. The room is pitch black so I conjure a string of magic so I can see. The remnants of my dream cling to me, and I have to remind myself what is real and not real.
I run my hands through my hair and look at Xavier lying next to me. I haven’t seen him fast asleep like this very often. When vampires are dead asleep, they look dead. Except in this case, Xavier would be the most beautiful and well preserved corpse I’ve ever seen.
I can’t quite remember everything about my dream, but it was similar to the one I had before where I was watching my parents discuss how to fight a demon. Did the Order know I came from a family of demon hunters? Was it some sort of sick irony on their part?
For my own mental health, I know I need to let it go. But I don’t know how I will ever move past this or let go of the anger. If they did this to me, who’s to say they won’t do this to anybody else?
I lay back down, watching the little string of magic float above me. My dream had to be just a dream. Premonition has never been my forte. Besides, my parents were alive in my dream. And I know they’re very much dead. Still, I can’t help but wonder what life would be like if they were alive or if somehow the graves I found were just markers like mine.
Obviously, I’m quite alive.
“Wren,” Xavier says sleepily. “Are you okay?” He reaches for me, rolling over so his body envelopes mine.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Just a strange dream woke me up.”
“Want to talk about it?” he asks, kissing the nape of my neck.
“I think it was just a dream. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“You can still talk about it,” he tells me.
“It was my parents,” I begin. “They were sitting around a table with a bunch of other people I think from their Coven. They were talking about hunting a demon.” I roll over and hook my leg over his. “Have you ever heard of witches hunting demons?”
“I have spent the better part of seven hundred years avoiding witches,” he reminds me. “But it doesn’t seem too far-fetched to me. Like you’ve said, having powers makes you a superior hunter. In a black-and-white world demons are bad. Humans are good. The Order isn’t the only organization who shares those beliefs. Well shared I suppose I should say.”