Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“It won’t be much longer.”
“Ade, are you listening to me?”
“I’m sorry. What?” She turned away from the window.
“I said we could probably get a smartphone under Ruth’s name so our data use would be more discrete. That way the IP address wouldn’t be linked to the house.”
“I told you I don’t understand such things, June. What’s wrong with a library?”
“Libraries are limited, and there’s the risk of exposure. If we buy a smartphone, we’ll have everything we need at our fingertips.”
“What is everything?”
“Every book ever written, forums, community groups, search engines, videos, social media. The internet is an unfathomable web of information right in the palm of your hand.”
“A whole book?” she asked, voice full of skepticism.
“Not just a book. All of them. Millions.”
“That doesn’t seem possible.”
“Trust me, it is.”
Adriel chewed her plump lower lip. “I don’t know. I’m not comfortable taking money from Ruth.”
Juniper glanced over at Ruth, who slept silently in her chair. “I’ll never understand how you immortals pick and choose your ethics. We aren’t taking advantage of her if she offers. We could just ask her for the money and see that she got it back eventually.”
Adriel’s stare returned to the dark window.
“Hey, what’s going on with you?”
Her brows pulled together. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just hungry.”
“So, get Danny back here.”
Her lips twisted and pursed. “No. I think I’m just nervous.”
She understood how anxiety was sometimes comforted with snacking. “What about a snack? Maybe something sweet or salty?”
Her green eyes turned upward. “I love tomatoes.”
She scrunched her nose. “Tomatoes? Not chips or chocolate or a cookie?”
“Well, I wouldn’t turn away a cookie, but I really love fresh tomatoes. I had an entire garden of them at home. I love the earthy way my fingers smell when I prune them. Maybe I’m just homesick.”
“I’ll add tomatoes to the grocery list.”
“The store-bought ones taste like pesticides.”
“You’re picky.”
“Maybe, but only because I’ve had better and see no reason to settle for less.”
Juniper smirked, liking when Adriel flashed that sort of queen energy. “It’s a shame all Ruth’s potted plants are dead.”
Glancing out the window, she sighed, her animated expression fading. “As good as a tomato sounds, I don’t think that’s what I want.”
“So, call Danny.”
She shook her head. “Last time I drank from him he…”
Juniper waited for her to finish. “He…?”
Adriel waved a hand. “You know. He…” She gestured toward her lap.
“Ohh! Ew! Seriously?” Juniper gagged. “Is that normal?”
“Feeding can be quite erotic for males.”
“What about for the females?”
“I’ve never found it to equal the male experience.”
“So much for my theories that God’s a woman.”
“I’d argue she is not.”
Juniper curled her lip. “So, you guys just feel nothing while they…finish?”
“It’s not that we feel nothing. It’s complicated. And they don’t necessarily finish. But the urge is there. The males can get…rowdy.”
“Gross.”
Adriel’s soft laugh cleared the air. “Is the thought so repulsive to you?”
“I can handle blood. But the thought of drinking it…” She stuck out her tongue. “And something about letting some random dude grind into you while you feed—No, thank you.”
“You might be surprised by how much you enjoy it if you stop thinking of it like a mortal. Dane was a half-breed, and he developed quite the taste for it.”
“Dane’s a guy.”
“Most females love it as much as the males.”
“Do you?”
She looked away. “Not the way most do.”
“Well, maybe we’re alike in that department. I doubt I’m that sort of female.”
“You should lean more into your supernatural side. You might discover more than a taste for blood once you start feeding properly.”
“Don’t judge me.” Juniper rolled her eyes. “You’ve never even had a taco. How does someone live five hundred years without tacos? They’re little corn envelopes of heaven.”
She sighed. “Every time we have conversations like this, I become more aware of how sheltered I was on the farm.”
Juniper turned to a blank page in her notebook. “I’m going to keep a list of all the things you need to try. All the pleasant firsts you missed. Tacos are at the top.”
Adriel half smiled and turned her attention back to the window. Her despondency was starting to worry her. It was like watching a wild animal struggle to survive after too many years in captivity.
“Ade, talk to me.”
She sighed. “The sensory overload of this place is draining. The traffic never stops, and the constant drilling and hammering of construction wears on my nerves.”
Juniper frowned, hardly able to hear anything beyond the chirrup of the night bugs and the wind in the trees. She could only hear the soft chatter from the TV. They were basically in the country. “You must have really good hearing.”
“I’m not used to all this noise and stimulation. It’s making me feel…separated.”
“Separated from what?”
“I don’t know. My faith, maybe.”
“Oh.” She struggled to understand how something so oppressive could be missed. “Maybe you just need sleep.”