Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
At this point, the patrons of the diner have mostly made their way out through other exits, windows, the back behind the bar, really whatever it takes. The android waiters have decided to follow suit, so there’s actually nobody to serve anybody chocolate at any kind of temperature.
The human with the briefcase doesn’t seem to notice the vibe. There’s a half-smile stuck on his face perpetually as he looks around the diner and takes in the general atmosphere of chaos. He looks at Emrys and he looks at Kronos, and then his eyes drop to me. A milky brown human gaze takes me in. His expression doesn’t change, but he looks at me for a little longer than seems sensible for a human who is standing in front of a valker who would absolutely want to suck every drop of blood out of him.
Something is going on.
There’s more to this guy than he’s letting on.
Is he another buyer? Did I somehow sell myself to an accountant? Anything is possible, I guess.
How the hell are these guys finding me? I conducted all the sales on my tablet, which should be untraceable. I paid a hell of a lot for that on the black market. But judging by the way my spot has been thoroughly blown by three of them already, I’m going to say I was ripped off there. The irony does not escape me.
Emrys and Kronos are not paying much attention to the newcomer. He’s so much smaller than they are, and his bleating about hot chocolate is not getting their attention.
From my position groveling at their feet, I have very little in the way of control. Raz says there’s a distraction on the way, but the accountant can’t possibly be it. He’s the very opposite of a distraction.
“Be patient,” Raz murmurs to me.
Easy for him to say. I am in the shadow of Emrys, whose mere presence makes me freeze like a frightened prey animal.
“Hello?” The man at the door asks again. “Is there any hot chocolate?”
“Quiet about the damn hot chocolate!” Emrys snaps.
“What is the young lady doing on the floor?” The man asks the question with the faintest of interest.
“None of your business.”
“Oh, I think it might be some of my business,” the man says. He is still so mild and calm.
Emrys looks at him, and I feel that vibe of cold power emanating from him. It’s not even aimed at me, and yet I sense it. It seems to leave the accountant entirely unaffected, though. He stares blankly at Emrys, with a complete lack of concern which seems to rile the vamp.
I don’t think Emrys wants to be here. I think he is narrowing his eyes against the light because there is too much of it. I think the mess that was made as he tried to drag me out has also caused him a good amount of annoyance. I think he is a creature of cool, dimmed places devoid of much life besides that which he consumes.
“Perhaps the young lady would like to get up?”
“Get out!” Emrys turns on the man. “We don’t need any white knights here, stranger. You are meddling in the affairs of creatures greater than you, and you will suffer the pains of a thousand deaths before I am done with you if you do not crawl out of my sight this instant.”
He is very, very grumpy. I press myself closer to the floor in a futile effort to stay out of the radius of his displeasure. This guy must have a craving for hot chocolate that constitutes a death wish. Can’t he tell how much fucking danger he is in? Even Kronos is starting to look faintly annoyed at this point.
“I think I should escort the lady away from whatever disagreement is taking place here,” the stranger says. “This is no place for a human woman.”
Emrys hisses. I see remnants of my blood on his fangs as he opens his mouth and threatens the newcomer. Violence is about to unfold. Just as Emrys lunges, I feel myself snatched by a strong blue hand and dragged back under the tables.
I am still looking at the unfortunate stranger who has just sacrificed himself for me. Poor guy. He probably just wanted to do something nice, and now his flesh is being torn to ribbons by Emrys, whose clawed hands are as effective as any predator’s talons. I see the suit rip, and the shirt beneath it turn to tatters, then the flesh itself part with a reddish meaty hue. I don’t see blood. I should be seeing gluts of blood. I should also be seeing bone. But I don’t see that harrowing flash of white. Instead, I see shiny black. “What the…”
I am still being dragged backward, but everything seems to have gone into slow motion. The strangeness of what I am seeing makes me focus on the scene before me rather than worrying about what is going on behind me.