Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
She laughed and hugged him tightly. “Thank you.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Was that really Yazanth?” she asked in an incredulous whisper.
He barely knew what to say.
He told her about the call, about what this would mean for Aurora. It wasn’t just training; it was a connection with Yan—Aljoe’s sisters. With their network. It was all so incredible. She’d worked so hard for it, too. She’d chosen her path, stood her ground, and she deserved this opportunity.
He regretted having to tell her he’d earned an I told you so. She’d never let him live it down.
“Do you think she’ll take it?” Earnessa asked, leaning harder into him.
“Yes. I don’t think she’ll hesitate.”
Text from Austin: HAHAHA!! I wish I could’ve seen your face. I assume you’re not a total idiot. You said yes, right??
“Go, go.” Earnessa shooed him away. “Dinner’s almost ready. I’ll yell for Mac.”
Kingsley texted his brother back: I did. Thanks, brother. You made this possible. I mean it.
Austin: Text that to Jess. She enjoys your dramatics. See you tomorrow for the Zoom call. Invitations go out next month. We’ve got a lot to do.
2
Sebastian
“Okay.” He scratched his head with the end of his pen.
No, wait. It was the end of a paintbrush.
Why did he have a paintbrush?
He looked around his messy workstation within the crystal room, the sublevel of Ivy House. It was where all the magic originated, the lifeblood of the house.
He loved being down here. He could almost feel the ancient magic pulsing, pushing up into the rest of the house. The first female gargoyle and her extensive sorcery magic lingered, watching over his proceedings with interest. Giving him ideas he never would’ve had in his many other labs over the years.
That was what it seemed like, anyway. His imagination had a habit of running away with him, helped by a general lack of sleep. But how could he sleep when he had so much to do?
What was he doing again?
A pot held a congealed mess, sitting atop one of the cold burners of his camping stove. An experimental potion gone wrong. That was yesterday’s mess. He had to throw that pot out and buy some new ones. There was no point washing some of these. It would only blow up the dishwasher. Or something much more sinister.
He glanced at the pile of papers on the ground next to his right foot, various layouts and notes regarding the grounds, specifically the border areas that were weak for defense. Those had shown up a few days ago, sitting in the middle of the little table near the entrance to this room.
Despite his messy working habits, he kept that area clean at all times. It was where Ivy House randomly placed books or documents or plants or information to help him work out all his various quandaries.
He was sure the plant was a joke.
He’d mentioned—to himself, but out loud—how nice it was to have a sounding board able to understand him. All he’d had in the past were plants. And while they were nice companions, seemingly happy with their green leaves and occasional flowers, they didn’t try to hit him in the butt with slamming doors or randomly feign earthquakes to scare him out of a daze.
Then he mentioned that maybe plants were actually just a bit nicer in that respect.
The next day, the plant had shown up.
The day after that, the vampire had shown up, accusing him of stealing very important natural components to his garden masterpiece.
A shrine in the making? One could never turn their back on a shrine in the making. There was no telling how horrible or dangerous it would turn out to be, so Sebastian had tattled on Edgar to Jessie.
“Hey.”
Sebastian jumped and jabbed himself in the cheek with the paintbrush. He turned to see Nessa strolling into the room.
“Hey,” he said.
“What are you doing?” She took the paintbrush out of his hand.
“You’re just in time to help me figure that out.”
She peered into Sebastian’s eyes for a moment, assessing. She was always so diligent about his wellbeing. From one of these looks, she could determine what he needed. Usually that was sleep, sometimes food, and occasionally to continue his work. They needed an edge that would give them the upper hand against Momar. He was determined to find one.
“I talked with Edgar.” She pulled the pot off the burner and set it on the ground before shuffling through the papers littered around and organizing them.
“Why?” he asked, dumbfounded.
That done, she opened up a folding table and set it near the crystals. She gathered the books strewn around and positioned them on top.
“We need to get you a bookcase. These are all very old volumes. You’re not treating them properly.” She pulled her phone out of her back jeans pocket and tapped the screen, probably to make a note.