Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Xavier shrugged. “I’m the Joker tonight. The Joker’s an asshole. Ergo . . .”
Anabel leaned into him. “The woman who’s dressed as Harley Quinn keeps looking at you.”
“She’s the new werewolf in town, right?” Delilah hummed, twirling one of her short, tight curls around her finger. “I’ve heard that werewolves are kind of wild in bed.”
Xavier’s eyes lit with interest. “Really? Well then, maybe I’ll go introduce myself in a little while.”
“As Xavier, or as whatever name you come up with at the time?” asked Anabel.
He lifted his shoulders. “Does it matter?”
“It should,” said the blonde. “But I don’t suppose you’ll ever quite get that.”
The song changed, and Hattie perked up. “What a classic. Back in the day, I would play this song at home over and over. Reggie got so sick of it he threatened to snap the record in half if I didn’t stop listening to it so much.”
Wynter tilted her head. “And who was Reggie?”
Hattie’s lips thinned. “Husband number three. Serial cheater. Highly temperamental. Threw a porcelain cup at me once.”
Wynter frowned. “What? Why?”
“He realized I’d poisoned the tea he just drank.”
“Huh,” said Anabel. “It’s not entirely surprising that he threw the cup, then.”
“No, I suppose not,” said Hattie.
Anabel jumped as a scream came from the speakers. “Jesus Christ my heart can’t take this.”
Wynter felt her mouth twitch. The music might be loud, but it wasn’t always loud enough to muffle the sound effects of caskets creaking open, owls hooting, wolves howling, voices screaming, and the wind moaning. In general, Anabel possessed a nervous disposition, so the freaky sounds were easily getting her all worked up.
“Hey, Wyn, your man has arrived,” Delilah announced.
Wynter tracked the Latina’s gaze, and her stomach fluttered at the sight of the tall, lean figure of male perfection heading their way. Hooded eyes that were a striking lustrous black locked on her. A pleasant little shiver worked its way through her.
She vaguely registered that another Ancient, Azazel, was with him. Wynter only had eyes for Cain. His intense, unblinking, laser-focused stare made her think of a snake. So she hadn’t found it terribly surprising to learn that Ancients were in fact serpentine creatures—another thing that very few people knew. Sometimes, those eyes of his could look as empty as an open grave. Other times, they could be practically aflame with emotion.
Delilah let out a dreamy sigh. “Damn, Wyn, I know he’s yours and everything . . . but I’m gonna look occasionally. Because he’s so worth looking at.”
It was truly ridiculous just how unbelievably sexy he was. There was something so decadently predatory about him. Wicked. Utterly sinful. There was an edge of raw danger to him that warned any in his path that they were looking at the penultimate alpha male.
Hattie leaned into Wynter. “Do you think we’d ever get him to be a butler in the buff?”
Oh, the woman didn’t possess an ounce of shame. “No. No, I really don’t.”
Reaching Wynter, he boldly swallowed up her personal space, his lips canting up in a hint of a smile. “Evening, little witch,” he said, his voice deep, rumbly, and carrying a note of authority—a note that intensified ten-fold in the bedroom.
“Well hello,” she said, sliding a hand up his chest as she drank in the sight of him. A face so flawless should be somewhat annoying, but every single feature was a pleasure to behold. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“You were taking too long to come to me. I missed you.” He dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. “Enjoying yourself?”
“I am, yes.” She let her fingers sift through his short hair. The strands were a deep, rich black that were impossibly dark in a very preternatural way. “I might even have a nice buzz going on, thanks to the drinks I’ve been knocking back. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He looked down at the corset of her dress. “I have so many plans for what to do to you later while you’re wearing this outfit.”
She smiled. “Always happy to be an inspiration.” Wynter went to say hello to Azazel, but his rich blue eyes were on Anabel.
“What’s with the boils and warts?” he asked her.
Anabel cleared her throat. “I’m allergic to crowds.”
He sent her a look that called her a liar. “You’ve been experimenting on yourself again, haven’t you?”
“Wow, I’m failing to see how that’s your business,” Anabel sassed. “And stop talking to me. Why do you always talk to me?”
Azazel shrugged. “I like to make people feel uncomfortable. You’re an easy target.”
The blonde blinked. “At least you’re honest.”
Xavier turned to Azazel. “Yeah, what’s that like?”
Cain put his mouth to Wynter’s ear. “I thought you said Hattie would be wearing a scary nun habit.”
“She told me she would be,” said Wynter. “I have to admit, I got nervous when she walked into the living room wearing that wedding dress. But she’s promised me she doesn’t intend to go marry George or even drag him into a handfasting. As long as there’s no such union, he’s safe from her black widow inclinations.”