Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
The help are way more useful.
Not me.
I’m not a good spy.
I’m not good at anything but making pretty furniture.
He’s going to be so disappointed.
I don’t even know how to bring up the topic with Joseph.
I keep my eyes fixed on the trim line of his shoulders in his perfectly starched tailcoat as I follow him through the house. Maybe money makes the people at the Arrendell manor too loyal to ever turn on their employers, though.
There’s an entire cult of secrecy around this place.
We rarely see the servants in town shopping for things the ‘royalty’ might need; everything gets delivered or brought in from out of town.
But with everything that’s happened here lately, no amount of money can buy those servants’ loyalty, or their silence. Killing them, on the other hand, just might.
…or so I’ve heard from, like, mystery novels and such.
I feel so naïve right now.
I’m just working up the nerve to ask Joseph a few leading questions when we cross into the main foyer and he pulls the massive double doors open, standing expectantly and watching me.
I stop on the threshold. It feels a million times warmer on the other side, like I’m caught between two completely different worlds.
I look at him as he raises his brows mildly.
“Is there something else you need, Miss Grey?”
“N-no.” I can’t do it. I can’t trust that anything I’d ask would be innocuous enough not to give the game away. So instead, I just smile. “Do you mind if I ask your last name? It feels too informal, calling you Joseph.”
He gives me a curious look, unreadable. I wonder if he can see right through me.
“Peters,” he says after a moment.
My smile brightens.
“Thank you for showing me the way out, Mr. Peters.” I file that away. “Have a nice day.”
I can at least tell Micah his name and that he seemed concerned about me—worried enough to possibly be sympathetic to Micah’s cause, and possibly willing to disclose a few Arrendell secrets.
I feel a bit better. Like I finally did something useful.
There’s a spring in my step, chasing away the unclean feeling Xavier left behind, as I slip back into the sun and grab my phone to shoot a quick text to Mr. Vampire Man himself.
Are you busy right now? I send. I’m leaving the mansion, and I really need to see you.
8
DARKEST BEFORE THE DAWN (MICAH)
Ireally need to see you.
I frown down at that message on my phone, propping my elbow up on the wheel of my patrol car and raking a hand through my hair.
I really need to see you.
That shit worries me a hell of a lot more than it should.
Talia’s a grown woman.
She’s leaving the big house, clearly safe and under her own willpower. Still, my mind whipsaws with a hundred dark scenarios.
Talia, backed into a corner in Xavier Arrendell’s office.
Talia, trying to fight him off while he rips at her clothes.
Talia, with her long red hair tangled in his brutish fingers, innocent prey being dragged into his spiderhole—
Fucking stop. Answer her.
Are you safe? I send back. How urgent? I’m on patrol for a few more hours.
While I wait for an answer, I gaze over the street.
I’m parked down one of the cobblestone lanes of the shopping district that branches off the central square like spokes from a wheel.
It’s quiet this time of day.
The morning rush has come and gone. Everyone’s got their kids bundled up and off to school. The stay-at-home moms are already back home doing the morning cleaning and won’t be out running errands until afternoon, squeezing them in between Pilates and grabbing their rug rats. Their working spouses are in their offices and workshops, busy hands filling the hours until they can come home.
Redhaven has a predictable rhythm, patterns people always follow.
Anything that breaks that rhythm always catches my eye.
This morning, though, the only thing out of sync is me.
I shouldn’t be this worried over Talia Grey when she’s talking to me. If she was truly in danger, she’d come out and say it.
You’d almost think I’m obsessed.
Or worse, growing a conscience. Thankfully, no crows yet today.
But I look down instantly as my phone vibrates with a new text.
Talia: I’m safe. He didn’t do anything but leer at me. I didn’t get much intel out of him, but I might have another lead you can follow. And I took some photos for the project, if you want to look through them for anything interesting. But it can wait until you’re off shift! <3
Intel. I almost smile.
Isn’t she picking up the lingo fast.
Red Grounds at 4:30? I send back.
Talia: Your treat?
You think I’d dream of asking my informant to pay for herself? Get over yourself, Shortcake.
She just sends back a laughing emoji and a bubbling cluster of hearts.
Goddamn.
I can almost see the way she smiles—shyly at first, then slow, before it spreads big and bright while laughter glitters in her eyes and she ducks her head, tucking her fiery hair behind one ear.