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)
Adriel stared at the cup, unimpressed. “And?”
“Come with me.” She led Adriel to the back porch where dried-up flower pots sat full of parched dirt and dead, shriveled vines. She dumped the water into a pot. “Now, we wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“You’ll see. It shouldn’t be long.”
Adriel rolled her eyes. “You need sleep.”
“Maybe. But I’m still right.”
Adriel moved back inside and filled the kettle with water. In the time it took for the water to boil and the tea to steep, Juniper recorded more notes. Adriel gathered the trash from the bin and tied the bag.
“I suppose I’m the only one around here who knows how to empty the rubbish.”
“Huh?” Juniper hardly looked up from her notes as Adriel took out the trash.
The door snapped shut then quickly opened. “Juniper!”
Her head jerked up and, seeing the look on Adriel’s face, she rushed to the porch. A wide smile spreading across her face as she spotted the tiny, green sprout pushing through the soil.
“How did you do that? The plants were dead.”
“I told you!” Juniper laughed triumphantly. “Water magick is amazing!”
Adriel’s lips parted as she moved closer. “Impossible.”
“Not impossible. Magick.”
“It can work that quickly?”
“Faster even. This is why I need the internet. If I can find a seasoned witch, I can figure out the stuff not printed in books. We lost my aunt’s grimoire in the fire, but hers wasn’t the only one in existence.” She smiled and pointed at the planter. “Look.”
The sprout was now several inches tall and had slender green leaves. Adriel gasped and softly brushed her fingers over the delicate leaves, bringing them to her nose. Breathing in the strong, unique scent of the vine, she smiled. “It smells just like my gardens at home.”
“I told you I’d get you some tomatoes.”
Adriel looked at her with amused shock and laughed. “You are a witch.”
Juniper nodded. “Yeah, I fucking am.”
CHAPTER 14
“That one.” Cerberus pointed to the willowy creature with ivory skin and long dark hair.
“Nicole,” the club owner called, and the woman stepped forward. The other dancers drifted back to the shadowed part of the stage where heavy curtains hung.
She wasn’t perfect, but she’d do. Reaching into his pocket, Cerberus removed a wad of crisply folded bills. Mortals were so economical. So disposable.
The club owner stepped in front of the girl. “Now, I know we agreed on five hundred, but if you want to keep her a little longer than two hours, I could cut you a deal.”
Cerberus stared down at the beady-eyed urchin. “Are you altering the terms of our agreement?”
“Not at all. I’m just saying, for a thousand, you could have her all night.”
He intended to keep her for the entire night regardless of what he paid. And come morning, there would be little left. At this point, the mortal urchin was negotiating his own fate. He despised weaselly little snakes, as he’d survived on a diet of slithery creatures for far too long. “We agreed five hundred.”
“Then five hundred it is. Just make sure she’s back before the end of her shift.”
He tossed the cash at the man and caught the girl’s arm, dragging her toward the door.
“You in town on business—”
“No talking.”
He’d had a productive few days and managed to commandeer a vehicle and some new clothes. There had been no sign of his mate, but Cerberus was used to biding his time. He’d find her eventually, and when he did, he’d make her pay for any delays.
The girl sat in the passenger seat silently as he drove. Her questions visibly built, but under his compulsion, she was unable to verbalize a single moan.
She had Lilias’s pale skin, but her hair lacked the sienna hues that lived in his memory. Ritual was important. Cerberus valued attention to detail.
Pulling into the parking lot of a corner apothecary, he shut off the car. She looked at him with worry in her eyes. The phantom scent of her anxiousness gave the air a bite. Pungent with metallic nuances similar to a sharp-scented onion cooking into a sweet broth. Like a good béchamel, the longer she simmered, the richer her flavor would be in the end.
Lifting a strand of hair from her shoulder he stilled and scowled. “What is this?”
Compelled to stay silent, she couldn’t answer, so he tugged the synthetic strand, yanking it free from her scalp.
“Artifice.” He threw the plastic strands on the floor.
Her brows pinched as her jaw trembled.
Jerking her over the center console, he sifted through her hair, finding several tracks stapled close to her skull. Fury built at the sense of being deceived, and he shoved her hard into the door.
“Take them out before I get back. Do not leave this car.”
The bright artificial lights of the pharmacy irritated his eyes. After centuries underground, one developed a deep appreciation for darkness, so he often donned sunglasses regardless of the time of day.