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)
Gazes darted around as everyone waited to see if anyone would admit to sending the notes. Nobody did.
Viper licked over his front teeth. “Then let’s get started.” He gestured at his nearest brother, which was Hustle. “You first.”
An explosion of Russian curses flew out of Luka’s mouth as he fisted the slips of torn paper he held. “I am fucking done with this shit.”
Watching him pace up and down the store’s workshop like a caged tiger, Ella leaned back against the counter. She didn’t fail to notice how Mia, Melodie, and Jocelyn backed up to give him space. Not that they feared him—being the close relatives of his anchor, Luka considered them under his protection. But he could be something of a scary sight when angry.
The skin of his face, neck, and hands currently rippled … as though snakes were slithering beneath his flesh. It was his inner demons. His anger called to them and fed their own fury just as theirs fed his. A vicious cycle for sure.
She’d gathered everyone here in the store to tell them about the note all at once. She hadn’t told them that Viper would be conducting his own investigation into the notes, though—not even Luka.
Her anchor had nothing against the Fallen in general, but every part of him would bristle at another male thinking they had any right to look out for her. He considered it his job; he wouldn’t want his toes stepped on.
He also wouldn’t like that Viper had edged his way into her business, and he’d demand to know why the president would even want to. That she was sharing Viper’s bed was something she’d be keeping to herself for now.
Ella wasn’t sure exactly how Viper planned to go about getting answers for her, but she’d welcome any aid she could get. Having all hands on deck made sense.
“The guy must get off on riding the edge of danger,” said Mikhail, his steel-gray eyes focused on Luka. “That little note in your hand is, in effect, a signed death warrant.”
Nikandr gave a slow nod. “He might as well have dared you to come after him.”
“I will when I find out who he is.” Luka’s gaze bled to black as one of his entities surfaced. “He will beg for death before we are done with him, and it will be some time before we are done,” it said.
Belial, Ella sensed.
A funny thing about legions? Their inner demons tended to name themselves, possibly to ensure they each stood out as separate entities. Inside Luka were Abraxas, Belial, and Dagon.
Ella had learned to tell them apart. Though they shared many of the same traits—remorselessness, impulsiveness, fearlessness—they each had distinct personalities.
Abraxas was extremely narcissistic and possessed a superficial charm. Dagon was moody, manipulative, and a compulsive liar. Belial was a pure sadist who didn’t seem to derive pleasure from anything other than hurting or humiliating others—hence why it was a particular favorite of her own inner demon, who could be somewhat coldhearted.
Melodie turned to Ella. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about the notes.”
“I didn’t want you to worry,” she defended.
“And you weren’t taking them very seriously, I’ll bet,” Jocelyn accused, pursing her lips.
“I’ll admit, I thought the first note could be a random kid completing a dare or something,” said Ella. “But due to the snare, I wasn’t feeling at all blasé about it.”
Melodie shot her a look of reprimand. “You can’t keep things like this from us. You always do it.” She glanced from her to Mia. “Both of you do. Whenever anything happens, you keep me and your aunt in the dark.”
“For the good of the world,” said Mia.
Jocelyn’s brows met. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means there’s a reason our Prime asked us to relocate rather than just kick us all out of the lair,” Mia elaborated. “The pair of you turn into magickal terrorists when any wrongs befall you or yours.”
Melodie lifted her chin a notch. “Glitter bomb potions don’t count as terrorism.”
Mia looked at Ella. “Remember that time my ex lost his hearing for six months?”
“That had nothing to do with us,” their mother swiftly denied.
Yeah, right. “And the time my old sleazy, touchy-feely neighbor kept snorting like a pig when he tried to speak?” That had gone on for a whole five months.
“Again, not connected to us,” Melodie insisted.
“Or the time the unapologetic drunk-driver who crashed into my car realized he’d been declared dead in every country and was never able to get tipsy again no matter how much he drank?” asked Mia.
Jocelyn nudged Melodie with her elbow. “I suppose we should take it as a compliment that they consider us so powerful.”
Melodie sniffed and then turned to Luka, whose eyes were back to normal now that Belial had retreated. “You’re no closer to finding out who it was?”