Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“I used to live in a brothel,” she reminded him.
“Good.” He cleared his throat and came swiftly to his feet. “You’ll have to put on a good act, because we cannot let them know that you are immune to magic. And you’ll have to do it without weapons.”
He collected the practice spears from where they’d been discarded and replaced them on the rack.
Her stomach was still fluttering as she said, “Gowns can hide knives just fine.”
Then his eyes were on her again, and she felt trapped all over. “The gown you’ll wear won’t have enough material to hide even a single knife.”
Kierse’s eyes widened as he headed to the door without a dismissal.
Another challenge.
She’d be so fucking good at it she’d wipe that smug smirk right off of Graves’s face.
Interlude
Emmaline Mafi sighed and pushed back into her chair at the end of her long shift at The Covenant. She pulled off the blue-light glasses she wore for long hours in front of the computer and stared blankly at the samples of blood nearby.
She had a headache. She’d taken herbs for it earlier and pain medication when it hadn’t gone away after that. The herbs usually did the trick, but this was different. A different sort of headache. Not one from staring too long at the screen or impatient patients or twelve-hour days. This had started behind her eyes and burned through her scalp. It had started when Graves had called and scheduled his appointment for his new . . . well, whatever she was. Girlfriend. Lover. Apprentice. Emmaline really didn’t know. Nor, she tried to convince herself, did she care. She had too many other things to worry about than Graves.
And yet, he was the crux of her problem. As he so often was.
The air had been balmy and bright the first time they met. A mere fraction of weeks before the economy collapsed and the entire world went to hell in a handbasket. He’d been handsome then. He was handsome now. All hard edges and insufferable quirks. She’d known he was dangerous. Dangerous and powerful. Just the way she liked them.
When they’d gone to bed that first time, she thought she would be able to handle him. That she’d be in control. She hadn’t been. She never was. Graves didn’t relinquish control. Not to anyone. And she had learned the hard way that she was hardly a speck in his stormy eyes.
He’d released her as he did all the others and given her enough money to weather the worst of the storm that blew in. Luckily, she was only a year from completing her medical degree, and that money put her into practice here at The Covenant.
Her headache bloomed. She needed to get out of the hospital. Her shift was over. Well past over. And yet she couldn’t stop staring at Kierse’s blood and wondering.
She’d chewed her nails down to the quick. An old habit she thought she’d rid herself of. But old habits die hard.
Especially when she knew what she had to do.
Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone and pulled up the number that she’d programmed there almost precisely two years ago. King Louis. A fake name, of course. Just a moniker for a new tyrant. She’d known it was a fake name when she met the vampire, the leader of the Men of Valor. She’d been trying to protect the community when he’d swaggered into her life, all cut suits and immeasurable power. Always with that damn gold pin at his throat—wings with an arrow through them. The Men of Valor’s symbol that was as absurd as their mission statement. The whole thing boiled down to putting monsters back on top.
And she’d gotten on his bad side. In one meeting, he’d bound her to him with blackmail and fear. She didn’t think that he’d ever let her escape his clutches. Certainly not today.
She typed out a text message . . . and waited.
I think I found something.
The response was nearly instantaneous. A match?
She shook her head. She didn’t think so. She didn’t know what she had, and she hated herself for even sending the message. Kierse was no more than a pawn in this game. Just as Emmaline herself was. But Graves had brought her in for a reason. Whether or not the girl was a warlock meant little to her. She was special in some way. Graves only dealt in special.
Emmaline had tried to talk Kierse out of it. She’d tried to tell her that she didn’t want these tests done. “Privacy,” she’d said. Yes, Graves would see them. But so would Emmaline, and she owed King Louis too much not to spill her secrets now. She didn’t want to do it, but when did she ever have a choice?
Possibly. I’ll need some time to determine if it is fit for you.