Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88613 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88613 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Are you here for the painting too?” I asked, keeping an eye on the dagger she began to twirl. A ruby red ring swirled on her finger. It looked like it contained lightning.
A Crimson Ring initiate.
My stomach lurched, threatening to empty itself.
“Of course I am. I followed the damn map. I was supposed to come back with the painting, not with a tattered-up fake,” the fae said, looking at the ruined canvas, her expression dropping with disappointment.
“Did you set this up?”
“No,” I said, putting my hands up. “I got fooled, same as you.”
She winced. A hand flew to her chest. Blood started to darken the gray shirt.
“You’re hurt.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She lifted the dagger. “We were told we can’t leave witnesses.”
Her ruby orbs turned to slits. I felt a whoosh of light-headedness. The fae must have been feeding on the flock of fearful and anxiety-fueled emotions swirling inside me. They were two of the most filling and the most addictive emotions for them to feast on, color already flushing back into her cheeks.
There was also still a chance I could talk my way out of this.
“Who told you that?”
She scoffed, hiding the wince of pain. “I ain’t telling you shit,” the fae said. There wasn’t damage to her shirt, which made me wonder how she got her wound in the first place. Probably some fucked up Crimson Ring hazing ritual.
“Listen, I can just walk out of here and pretend like nothing happened.” Bullshit, of course. I’d track her down the moment I was safe and had the upper hand. “You don’t have to do anything you might regret.
“I’ll regret going back to the Center and having to explain why I let you go.” Her smile turned sinister, like a slash across her face.
“You can still change your mind, you know. You don’t have to go through with it. Not if you’re just an initiate.”
“I want to go through with it, and I want this done.”
She lifted her hand and launched the dagger through the air. I dropped to the ground as the blade inched across the top of my scalp. It flew out the broken window and left the fae defenseless.
This was my chance.
I rolled forward and grabbed at the fae’s legs. She screeched and kicked at me, landing a hard sneaker against my ribs. But I had the element of surprise, wrapping her bottom half in my arms and knocking her over. She fought for purchase, trying to grab any part of me she could.
“Asshole!”
She landed a hard elbow to my jaw. Stars exploded across my vision but I kept my hold on her.
Her bright pink and extremely sharp-looking nails got close to scratching at my eyes, but I pulled back just enough to keep my vision intact. I felt them cut at my throat, the sharp sting of skin being ripped off immediately following.
“Get off of me!” she shouted, spit flying through the air. She continued to thrash.
I managed to pin her down to the ground, using my knee to hold her legs down and a forearm to press down on her chest. She shifted, and so did my forearm, pushing down on her throat instead. Her shiny green eyes bulged. There were no whites, no pupils, only the crystalized form of the fae’s eyes looking up at me, pleading, begging.
“Will you let me go?” I asked her one last time.
She gave a barely perceptible nod.
I eased off her. That’s when she launched a knee straight to my nuts. I crunched over in stomach-wrenching agony. The pain was searing hot, holy shit. It was bad. But I somehow pushed past the throbbing waves of lightning that shot out from my busted balls and got back on my feet.
The fae barreled toward me, leaning forward. She was going to throw us both out the same window Maddox flew out of.
I side stepped her and sent a fist directly into her gut. This was enough to throw her off balance, the momentum from her run sending her directly into the wall. She missed falling to her death by inches, instead banging her head hard against an exposed plank of wood.
The cultist crumbled to the floor.
“Hello?”
She didn’t shoot up and stab my neck like I was scared she’d do. She just lay there, knocked out. I shook my head. She had to have been in her early twenties, likely had a whole set of dreams and hopes she traded away for that hideous ring still swirling on her finger. She had been fed lies, given promises of eternal life and endless power, all in the name of Niazatos.
A wave of icy chills crawled down my back.
I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. Yes, she tried to kill me, and yes, she was part of a group that was determined to bring on the end of the world, but still, I was human. I had a heart, and that heart carried with it way more sympathy and empathy than I knew what to do with.