Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“No,” Ralstad said flatly. “Maeve is otherwise occupied.”
Maeve hesitated, looking from him to Lyrica. “I can’t tomorrow, but maybe later in the week, aye?”
Lyrica ignored the bristling Kurjan male. “That would be great. How about Tuesday?”
“Ah, sure, I’ll need to have a look at me schedule,” Maeve said softly.
Ralston’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes darkening to a deeper purple.
The air grew heavier, and Lyrica decided not to push further. “Thank you for the tea, Maeve. We’ll talk soon.”
Without waiting for a response, she stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind her. The biting cold stung her face, offering a sharp relief from the oppressive tension lingering inside the cottage. She climbed into the UTV, fired up the engine, and let her thoughts churn. Something felt deeply wrong, and she intended to uncover exactly what.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Well after midnight, Lyrica sat in Vero’s bed, reading a mystery novel she’d found in the kitchen. She had wavered between going back to her room or staying in his, but she really wanted to talk to him. They had to at least settle what the heck was going on between them right now. She had felt off the entire day and, frankly, it had been one of the longest days of her life. Finding that body had been both depressing and shocking. They had transported the victim to the medical facility where a grumpy Dr. Fizzlewick had waited to perform an examination.
Vero had then ordered Lukas to bring Lyrica back to the main lodge. She wanted to argue, but his tone had promised that she wouldn’t win. She didn’t like that. There were enough overbearing males around her right now, and she didn’t like Vero thinking he could tell her what to do.
Lukas had remained quiet and somber, dropping her off and saying he’d return to cover the enforcer’s back. The kid was being forced to grow up way too quickly.
The page in front of her kept blurring, and she had no clue what she’d read for the last hour. Finally, she heard Vero’s heavy footsteps in the hallway outside before the door opened and he strode inside.
He’d already ditched his jacket and boots and looked tall and dangerous in a black long-sleeved T-shirt and faded jeans. He had taken quickly to wearing modern clothing, as had most of the Kurjans. The idea that they had spent most of their lives in uniforms seemed incomprehensible to her. It was nice to see them embracing some creativity.
Her mind flashed to Maeve and the old-fashioned dresses. Did the woman even want to wear dresses? Maeve might love to wear a pair of jeans.
Lyrica placed the book on the bedside table. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said, just looking at her, his gaze hot.
She tried to keep her blood from racing through her veins. He was so close, his outdoorsy scent wafted toward her, tempting her. “Did they identify the newest victim, by any chance?”
“No,” he said shortly.
Lyrica’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Me too,” he muttered. “The symbol of the circle with the three slashes was carved into her back.”
Lyrica winced. “With a ballpoint pen?”
“Yeah, this one was black.”
Lyrica shook her head. “I wish we could figure out what that symbol means.”
“If it means anything,” he returned, striding toward her. “It may be something this group just made up.”
She gulped as he came near her. “Is this something that has happened before in the Kurjan nation? I mean, weird markings, weird symbols, and weird killings?”
“No. This is something new for us.” He paused. “That is interesting though, isn’t it?”
Her curiosity was piqued. “What is interesting?”
“This is new for us. A lot of things are. Somebody different brought this in,” he said slowly. “We have a lot of newcomers these days.”
The vampires had returned to the Realm, though. “Yet the three who attacked last night? Those were Kurjans.”
“That’s true.” He scrubbed a broad hand down his face. “We need to talk.”
“Yes,” she said. Even as she burrowed under the covers, an unexpected chill crept over her. She shifted, sitting up straighter, and tucked her knees to her chest, keeping the blankets wrapped tightly around them. “Today felt weird.”
He barked out a short chuckle. “Today did feel weird.” He dropped his hand from his face, and his gaze met hers, the blue in his eyes undefinable. “How are you feeling today?”
“A little sore,” she admitted, trying not to be embarrassed. “But in a good way,” she added quickly.
Tension radiated from him. “I’m glad to hear that. Anything else?”
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I’m just asking if you feel different than before.”
“Well,” she said slowly, “like I said, I’m sore. But I’m also fighting a cold, I think.”
His gaze sharpened. “Explain that.”
“Why the heck do you want to know how I feel?” When his chin lowered, she gave in. This wasn’t worth a fight, and exhaustion weighed down her limbs. “Fine. I feel like I’m coming down with something. Like I’m a little tired and my muscles are weak.”