Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Leaving his acidic blood to kill the demon from the inside out—it made for an excruciating death—Viper switched his focus to yet another strix. He hurled an unholy orb at its head. The demon shifted into a tight ball of mist, avoiding the hit, and just as swiftly shifted back.
Awkward little bastard couldn’t just die easily, could it?
Viper tossed out a series of orbs. The strix evaded all … bar one. The final ball of flames wacked its head hard, killing it instantly.
Breathing hard, he took a quick moment to quickly scan the metaphorical battlefield. All his brothers were still standing, still fighting. Several were covered in ultraviolent flames, blasting streams of it out of their palms. The surviving strix were in bad shape—patches of their flesh were black, burned, and corroding. There weren’t very many left.
He heard a wrench as Darko plucked off a strix’s head. The bodily remains crumbled to ashes. “Bastard tried ripping a chunk out of my throat,” he told Viper, indignant. “It seemed excessive.”
Viper could only shrug.
More and more strix came his way. Nails raked at him. Fangs punctured him. Whips lashed him. Orbs punched him.
To the music of his brothers’ perverse laughter, Viper kept on fighting; pelting the strix with blasts, orbs, and telekinesis.
A hellfire orb crashed into his skull so hard his head snapped to the side. The move sent pain streaking up his neck and made his ears ring.
Another flaming ball came his way. He dodged it, struck out with an archangelic blast, and grunted in satisfaction when his attacker—
Blazing trails of fire raked down his back. Fucking razor-like nails. He pivoted to face his new foe, dived right at the little fucker, and roughly buried his teeth into its neck. The strix burst into molecules, escaping his hold, and darted backwards out of reach.
Realizing that the sounds of battle had greatly dimmed, Viper looked around … and frowned at a cursing Jester, who was wrestling with a bat that was biting at his face, its leather wings flapping at his hand.
Jester snapped its neck, coughing as it then burst into ashes that showered his face. “Fucking. Hate. Strix.”
“So you often say,” intoned Ghost before puffing out a breath. “Looks like the battle’s over.”
It did. Jester had killed the last of the strix. Ashes littered the ground and peppered his brothers’ clothes and skin.
No one was badly hurt—or they had drunk enough blood to heal any severe injuries.
“That was a decent-sized bunch of strix we just killed,” remarked Omen as he approached.
“There’ll be many more,” commented Razor.
Omen granted that with a stiff incline of his head. “But the colony has taken a good hit, if you count the amount of strix we’ve killed in total since they shoved themselves onto our radar.”
“They sent more this time, but not a lot more,” Viper noted. “Like they believed we’d won the last battle by some stroke of luck.”
“I reckon the next batch that come after us will be bigger again,” Ghost predicted. “But not too big—the queen won’t want to have to send any who she doesn’t consider expendable.”
Omen nodded. “Yeah, we have to remember that these won’t be her strongest fighters. She’ll be keeping those close for her own protection.”
Done with strix bullshit for the day, Viper blew out a long breath as he took stock of himself. “Let’s head back. We need to move the human corpse that was left outside the compound. Then I need a fucking shower and change of clothes. Fast.” He had a pool hall to get to.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ella was folding clean laundry in her bedroom when her phone rang. Dropping a hoodie back into the basket, she retrieved her cell from the nightstand. Mia. Feeling her lips curl, she answered, “Hello?”
A sheepish sigh drifted down the line. “Hi. I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need to cancel our pool-hall plans for tonight.”
“How come?” Ella asked, surprised. It wasn’t like her sister to bail. “Is everything okay?”
Mia made a noncommittal sound. “Joe telepathed me. He asked if I’d meet him at his place tonight. Apparently, he wants to have a—and I quote—real talk.”
“Oh, well, that’s good. It’s about time he decided to be honest with you.”
Mia hummed in agreement. “Not sure why he didn’t sooner, but I’m sure he’ll explain. I’m sorry that—”
“Hey, there’s no need to be sorry. He’s your anchor. Things are strained between the two of you; of course you want to give him the chance to fix it.”
“I thought about putting it off until later, but delaying the conversation will bug me. I’ll spend the time wondering what he has to say, so I won’t make good company for you.”
“Mia, really, it’s fine,” Ella stressed. “Go see him; get the matter settled. And call me later to let me know how it went.”