Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
A decanter had rolled from his hand to the tiled floor, where it leaked its last drops. His lips were cut. A trickle of crimson threaded from his bottom one into the water.
Drip…drip…
For a long, careless moment, she watched him—the sheen of damp lashes, the cruel beauty of his face, the chiseled perfection of his body.
Drip…
Her brazen hand found her vial, uncorking it. Her reckless feet shifted her closer.
Madness!
The glass in her palm felt impossibly small for the danger it would hold. But his fresh blood could save her weeks of scavenging. Her mother had died dreaming of escape. Nadje refused to die dreaming. Deciding to steal now and reckon later, she eased down, close enough to feel his heat.
She tilted the vial to his lips. The glass kissed him as softly as a lover. One bead slid in, then four more.
She drew it back and trapped the glimmering garnet with her cork.
He moaned again. The sound scorched her nerves.
Nadje backed away, disbelieving what she’d just done. She slipped through the door, closing it with infinite care—
—and nearly stumbled at the faint shift of water.
He’s waking.
Heart hammering, she flew across the room, her feet ghost-silent over stone. She escaped to the hallway, vial clutched tight like stolen gold.
She pressed her back to the cool wall and stared at her prize. The key.
So valuable, she was tempted to dip her tongue and take a taste. She shook away the urge, tucking the vial deep into her bodice.
A shiver of triumph—and lingering terror—ran through her. How could she have risked herself like that?
Straightening her shoulders, she strode down the hallway of sins.
Because this is passage.
Chapter 45
Eyrun
Three days till the Hunter’s Moon
“We’ve picked up a tail,” Ven said in Old Norse. “A fox.”
“Ah, your stone-cold fox?” Eyrun replied in the same tongue. Chiyo was stealthy as the night was long, but somehow Ven always sensed her first. “So now we have a spy spying on spies who are spying.”
The sisters had come to the demon realm of Grimrock, seeking the answer to one question: Who do we annihilate for their strigoi folly?
Last week, they’d scoured Rhun, expecting raucous demons to brag about their coup in some tavern. Instead, the realm had been strangely subdued, tight-lipped and watchful.
Never a good sign.
Their Rhunian king—a fire demon named Pyrrik—was as unpredictable as a wildfire, but he’d been more measured over the last few decades. In contrast, the Grimrock king—Morath—was a stone demon reputed to be as immovable as bedrock. What would the sisters find in his kingdom tonight?
Ven clearly tired of being followed. She whirled around and charged the hooded Chiyo. “Sneaking up on us? You really do have a death wish.”
To her credit, Chiyo didn’t retreat. “I’m catching up with you. I want to be a part of this mission.”
“Why?” Ven’s voice tightened as tension rippled between them.
“That attack affected me too,” Chiyo said, her gaze briefly dipping from Ven’s runes to her lips. “I want to know who did it and why the Coffin Valkyrie warned us. I heard you were in Rhun recently and figured you’d come here next, following the pressure lines before you strike the witches. But the Riders have vowed to the Lore they had nothing to do with it. They also asked around, and no warlock would own to it. So I don’t think anything mystical portaled the monsters in.”
“That leaves teleportation. Demons and leeches,” Eyrun said. “Which we can handle. So why would we need you to be part of our mission?”
“You’d be surprised what I can do in a pinch, and a skilled fighter is always welcome.” Chiyo patted her sword.
Eyrun snorted. “You think we’re going to get in a pinch?” Aside from Eyrun’s abilities, Ven was the Lightning Rider, a legendary warrior with only one real weakness. Granted it was a big one. But it rarely came up, not much at all—
“Do what you want,” Ven told the shifter. “Just stay out of our way.”
Behind Chiyo, Eyrun rolled her eyes at Ven and mouthed, Stay outta our way.
Ven marched on, her look alone delivering the addendum.
Eyrun and Chiyo followed.
Even hooded, the Valkyries drew stares. Demons turned their heads as the trio passed, visibly affected—hands rubbing horns, mouths half open.
Demons were attracted to Valkyries like horned flies to honey. Some claimed the word “horny” came from how demons reacted to shield-maidens. Eyrun didn’t doubt it.
When more demonkin jolted as the sisters passed, Chiyo exhaled. “They really are obsessed with your kind.”
“Oh, shifters are too,” Eyrun said, mischief in her heart. “We can’t even go to the shifter shire where you live. Hands everywhere. I mean, not you, of course. Just people exactly like you.”
Chiyo narrowed her eyes. “If you can’t walk through a crowd without causing a stir, how are we supposed to spy?”
Ven answered, “The same way we always do in demon territory. We pick a fight.”