Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
“Y-you can’t,” I said, my mouth completely dry. Even Hades would wait until he was back in the underground for this next part. “We’re in a church.”
“White doesn’t suit you, my lovely wife.” He circled me until he was at my back. I didn’t even have the wherewithal to try to keep him in my sight. He wouldn’t do this here. He couldn’t.
He trailed a finger up my spine until he’d reached the top button of my dress, just under my hairline. He gripped the back of the collar with both hands, slipping his knuckles between the fabric and my skin. It was a warm caress that spurred panic in me as I realized what he was doing.
“Stop—”
He yanked the dress open, ripping my mother’s lace.
I opened my mouth, and my chin trembled. I thought I’d already known the worst of him, but he would prove me wrong. When his footsteps sounded again, I did my best to inhale back the urge to cry. My weakness would only spur him on.
Cristiano finished his circle and stood in front of me again with darkened eyes and lowered lids. “Now, take off your dress, Natalia—and let me see what my brother’s freedom bought me.”
* * *
Mountain Darkness
By
Vanessa Vale
1
KIT
I stuck my arm out from beneath the covers and slapped at the top of my alarm clock to shut it up. God, it was too early. Even though the sun was peeking beneath my blinds, I wanted to snuggle deeper for a few more hours. Groaning, I kicked my legs out and sat up. Last night’s wedding had gone smoothly; at least the bride and groom had thought so. Erin and I had been able to sober up the groom’s uncle with two cups of coffee in time for family photos. They never knew the veggie medley on the sit-down meals hadn’t been a medley at all, but solo broccoli.
While the couple had a wedding day, and most likely night, to remember, mine had been less exciting. For my wild Saturday night, I’d picked up the daily lottery ticket for my mother on the way home, kicked off my heels by the front door, then fell into bed like a tree being cut down and slept until… the annoying alarm.
We had a breakfast meeting with our new—and biggest—client, and all this work was why I’d returned to Cutthroat, but a few extra hours of sleep wouldn’t have hurt.
I didn’t smell any coffee brewing, which meant Erin was still asleep. She’d scheduled the early meeting, so the least she could have done was get up first and get the caffeine injection ready.
Already grouchy, I quickly made my bed, then padded out of my room and down the hall, tugging my sleep shirt down. I made it as far as the couch in the great room, then stopped. Stared. Blinked. I wasn’t quite awake, my mind not firing on all cylinders, but seeing Erin sprawled on the floor, I went fully alert between one heartbeat and the next.
“Erin!” I shouted, dropping to my knees before her. Her blonde hair was matted to her head with blood. So much of it was soaked into the carpet. Her blue eyes stared up at me, vacant and empty. “Oh my god, Erin. Wake up!”
Rationally, I knew she was dead. Her eyes weren’t moving. Her lips were gray. The side of her head… god, it was bad. Irrationally, I lifted it onto my lap, brushed her hair back, kept telling her to wake up. When I realized I was smearing the blood, I stopped. I started to shake, to look around to figure out how she’d ended up like this. Help. She needed help.
Carefully, I laid her back on the floor and ran to my room, grabbed my cell from the charger. With shaky fingers, I tried to swipe my screen for access. “Come on,” I whimpered, but my fingers were covered in blood and it wouldn’t work. I wiped them on my sleep shorts and tried again.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
“I… my friend… she’s dead. Oh god. You have to send an ambulance.”
“Ma’am, what is your address?”
I told her, then answered all the questions she tossed at me in her efficient voice. I stayed on the line with her until I heard sirens, then hung up and ran outside. Erin’s house was a custom build with all wood and glass, with more rooms than one person needed. It sat in a high-end enclave of homes with large lots and great views that would make a big dent in most people’s bank accounts, but not Erin’s. She was a Mills. I ran down the front walk in my bare feet to meet the fire truck and ambulance that had pulled into the circular drive and pointed toward the house.
“Are you hurt?” one of the paramedics asked, looking me over as the others went inside.