Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Confusion muddied Wiley’s brain. “I thought you can control animals,” he said to Baer as the redhead settled on the couch, next to Clay. Wiley sat on the arm, hovering close and ready to fetch whatever Dane needed to make Baer better.
Baer looked down at his arms. “I couldn’t control these. I’m afraid the pestilents sent a witch against us this time. Seemed like she could control the rats without much effort.”
Grey walked into the house along with a tall black man dressed in a suit. Wariness lined his handsome face, and Wiley knew that expression all too well. It was the “What the fuck have I walked into?” look. Wiley was sure he’d worn the same one when he arrived at the plantation.
“Everyone, this is Lucien Cummings, our newest Weaver,” Grey introduced.
“I don’t know about that,” the guy said as he looked around. “Shouldn’t you guys be getting some antiseptic for those wounds?”
“Dane is a healer,” Baer said, grimacing when Dane put his hand over the wound on his shoulder.
Lucien raised a skeptical brow but stood silently as he watched. He had a long, lean form with wide shoulders, a shaved head, and some of the most handsome features Wiley had ever seen. Narrow, dark eyes with long eyelashes and full, pouty lips. Cheekbones for days.
Dane closed his eyes, and it wasn’t long before a sort of glow showed where he touched Baer. The Animal Weaver sighed with relief, and the lines of pain around his eyes and mouth eased.
“Sure is handy having you here,” he murmured as he tilted his head back. He had blood in his whiskers.
But Wiley’s mouth dropped open as the scratches on Baer’s arms started to heal. The blood stayed—he’d have to wash that off—but the jagged lines closed. One rather nasty looking bite on his neck seemed to take the longest. That and the bullet wound. “What if the bullet is inside him?” he asked, twisting his hands with worry.
“It’s not,” Clay said. “I looked. Just a glancing shot. Tore up his flesh.”
Wiley glanced at Lucien, who watched Dane and Baer with wide eyes. “It’s something, isn’t it?” Wiley asked.
“Hard to take in,” Lucien replied as he walked forward to look closer. He had to lean far to peer at Baer’s shoulder. Sheesh, the man had to be over six foot five. At least close to a foot taller than Wiley. And he was totally gorgeous like all the Weavers. Wiley pushed up his glasses, feeling quite ordinary among them. He didn’t care for the feeling. Didn’t like feeling so very different than the rest of them. As if he were smaller somehow, and not in stature.
Grey handed Clay a glass of whiskey and Clay thanked him, then took a healthy swallow. He looked at the shredded skin of his arm and shook his head. “Of all the creatures to have attack us, it had to be rats. Hate those fuckers.”
Lucien straightened up and crossed his arms. “You’re saying that someone or something was controlling them? And what is a Weaver?”
Before Clay could answer, Dane asked Baer if he was better, and the man nodded. Dane moved to Clay, cursing as he got a good look at Clay’s arm. But he immediately placed a gentle hand over the worst of the wounds and got to work, a glow coming from around his hand. Wiley noticed his eyes going heavy-lidded as if healing took a lot out of him.
“The Weavers are a brotherhood of six men who have powers.” Clay said through gritted teeth. “We’re coming together to fight something pretty damn powerful. Real ‘save the world’ kind of stuff.”
“You called me a Weaver, but I have no powers.” Lucien frowned.
“You don’t have them yet,” Grey corrected. “Yours are being held by a goddess who will be showing up at any moment to hand them over. They’re good about knowing when one of us arrives.”
“Magic and goddesses? Oh, and people who can control rats.” Lucien lifted a brow.
Clay nodded and winced as Dane placed his hand over another wound.
“Sorry, babe,” Dane whispered, leaning over to kiss Clay. “These are pretty bad.”
Clay narrowed his gaze on him, his expression closed with worry. “You doing okay? Getting tired? We can take a break.”
“Tired, but I can finish. Anyone else have any bites or scratches?”
Grey shook his head. “I was busy trying to keep Lucien from taking off.”
“I’m not sure I still won’t,” Lucien said as he stepped away from everyone. “This is crazy business here.”
“Maybe, but you’ve seen some of it with your own eyes. Lion running around a graveyard, sudden flood of rats, my mind-reading, and Dane’s healing.” Grey ticked off each item on his fingers.
“The lion and rats aren’t proof of magic. Just…weird. So is your mind-reading, but it still could be a trick. Maybe…computer hacking or something.”