Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
And nothing happens.
“No,” I cry and pitch forward, falling onto him. And then a hand lands on my back. I look up, thinking it’s Devon, but he’s still kneeling a few feet from me. Jerking myself upright, I see Xavier slowly blinking.
“Wren,” he groans. “You’re okay.”
“Oh my god,” I cry and melt against him again before looking to see if his wound is healing. It is, and I watch as his flesh goes back together. “And you are too.”
“I told you,” he says, flashing a cocky grin. He sits up and looks down at his chest. I bring my hand to him, feeling where the wound was. He’s healed, but there’s a little line of scar tissue left behind.
“Is the demon gone?” Devon asks, fangs still drawn. He’s looking at my hand, which is bleeding. A lot. Xavier runs his fingers over my arm, feeling where the demon mark had been. It’s gone now.
“Yes,” I tell him. “We killed him.” Letting out a breath, I rock back off my knees and sit on the ground.
Devon keeps staring at me, but this time, he’s shifted his eyes to my face. “You did this, like daily?”
“Not daily. Weekly. Sometimes bi-weekly if we spent a lot of time training.”
“Damn,” Devon says, slowly shaking his head.
Xavier brings my hand to him, looking at the cut. “You are fucking magnificent, my love. And I think you need stitches.”
“Okay, in hindsight, I should have cut like right here,” I say and point to the top of my arm. “This is going to be a pain in the ass to deal with for the next few days.”
Xavier gets to his feet and pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me deeply, not caring that Devon is here. My heart swells in my chest, and I press against him, not feeling like I’m close enough.
Xavier breaks apart and rips the hem of his t-shirt to tie around my hand. I kept a first-aid kit in the bag, and we’re not far from a campground’s fully stocked nurses’ station. But hey, I can see his abs now as well as that little trail of hair that goes down his stomach, leading right to his cock.
Who am I to complain?
“There’s still like twenty-some people missing,” I say as Xavier ties the makeshift bandage around my hand. “We should find them.”
“The police can find them. You need medical attention.”
“I’m fine,” I say, tempted to roll my eyes. “I’ve had a lot worse injuries on the job.”
He gives me a that doesn’t matter look. “I wasn’t there. I am now.”
This time I do roll my eyes. “We’re not in Charlotte. What are you going to tell the police?” I make a face, realizing that even if this did happen in Charlotte, it wouldn’t matter how well-connected Xavier is, this is going to be hard to explain.
Twenty-seven people are missing, and I think it’s safe to say they’re all dead.
We have seven brutally murdered bodies, plus parts of at least one other person chewed up and eaten by the scrappers. Between the black bears and coyotes, there are enough natural predators to blame for the remains being eaten or missing.
“Don’t worry about it,” Xavier tells me. “I want to get you home and cleaned up.”
“I really am fine,” I tell him and stand in the middle of the little area where the ground was the most disturbed. I can still feel the pulsation of magic from the Ley line beneath me. There’s nothing I can do to push it back down, below the surface. It’ll recede slowly over time, but until then, this place is going to be a hot spot for attracting monsters. “But I will get checked out, as long as we stop at Taco Bell first.”
Chapter
Thirty-Five
Devon’s face wrinkles with disgust. “I used to eat that.” He watches me take another bite of my bean burrito. “And enjoyed it.”
“You haven’t been dead long enough to start dissing Taco Bell,” I say with my mouth full. “I think a year needs to pass first. Minimum.”
“I have to say, I am not sad I missed the invention of fast food,” Xavier notes and I laugh. We’re at a Taco Bell not far from the campground, and we all look a little worse for wear. As late as Taco Bell is open, we were the last customers to stop in.
“The food game has stepped up so much since you’ve last eaten too,” I add, and squirt more hot sauce on my burrito, careful not to get it in my cut. Xavier is right; I do need stitches because every time I think the bleeding has stopped and I move my hand, it starts bleeding again.
But first, Taco Bell. It’s not like I’m going to bleed to death here.
We’re getting close to sunrise by the time we get home, and the physician who treats the Malus family humans is here, waiting to stitch up my left hand. Xavier helps me shower so I don’t get the bandage wet, and then we get into bed.