Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
I nodded.
“Soon, Rosie.”
“Be careful.” I tilted my head so our lips brushed.
“I will.”
I was afraid to hope as he led me out to the living room, where everyone was waiting. The Vampires were grim and determined as they greeted each other and me. Even Chance had lost his sardonic smile as he handed Daniel weapon after weapon that my mate stashed all over his body.
“You good?” I asked Ian, stepping in next to him.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he replied. “You good?”
“I’m fine.”
He shot me a look.
“Better than I was earlier,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Not looking forward to this next part, but you guys have the harder job.”
“I’m just hoping that he’ll have something to tell us,” Ian said quietly. “My dad’s pretty fucking pissed that this guy is involved. I guess they worked together for years.”
“Hopefully, he gives you enough information that we can take them all down,” I said, bumping my shoulder against his biceps. “I love the old man, but I’m getting tired of living with him.”
“I heard that,” my pop said, not even bothering to look at us as he helped Uncle Dalton with something I couldn’t see.
Ian had been on missions before, but never something like this. From the conversation that flowed around me as they finished getting dressed, they planned on taking a helicopter to the coast and then traveling to the house on foot. They weren’t sure how much security Edgar Adamson had, but they weren’t very concerned about neutralizing anyone who got in their way.
Neutralizing, not killing. The Vampires guarding the lieutenant general were part of Command. They wouldn’t kill any of them for doing their job unless there was no other choice.
Edgar Adamson, on the other hand, would meet swift justice if they confirmed that he’d been in league with the Vampires and humans responsible for the murders.
Daniel pulled me close and kissed me hard as they filed out of the house.
“Remember, I’m fine unless you hear otherwise.”
“I know,” I whispered back.
He stared at me for a moment. “I love you.”
I didn’t even have time to process what he’d said before he was out the door and jogging down the front steps. Seconds later, they were driving away in one of Strike’s black SUVs with Uncle Dalton at the wheel.
“Can I shut the door now?” my pop asked dryly. “Or you wanna keep staring at the taillights some more.”
I shook my head to clear it and then looked at him.
“Did you hear him?” I asked, not quite sure if I’d heard what I heard.
“He wasn’t bein’ quiet,” my dad replied, swinging the door shut. He locked both the deadbolt and the handle as he chuckled. “Your response left a little to be desired.”
“Shut up.”
“Like a deer in the headlights,” he continued as he wheeled himself toward the kitchen.
“I was not,” I argued, following him.
The muscles in my abdomen tightened painfully, and I held back a gasp.
I was fine. Daniel was fine. The symptoms were temporary. He would be back as soon as he could be.
“Well, neither of us is sleepin’ tonight, so how about a drink?”
“Whatcha got?” I asked, ignoring the sweat that had broken out on the back of my neck.
My entire body was sore from my little excursion earlier in the evening, and I dropped onto a kitchen chair with a groan.
“Shitty timing for them to fly to the coast,” Pop said as he set down two glasses and a bottle of whiskey on the table between us. “Glad I picked up a little something while I was out this week. How’re you holdin’ up?”
“Everything hurts,” I replied dryly. “But I can hack it.”
“He needed to know,” he told me as he poured the whiskey. “You’ve always been tough, kid, but hidin’ how bad you’re feelin’ is just plain masochistic.”
“I figured he knew that it was bad.”
“How the hell would he know that when you weren’t tellin’ him?” he asked dubiously.
“Because it’s common fucking knowledge?”
Pop blew a raspberry and shook his head. “You know that it affects everyone differently. There was no way to know how bad yours had gotten.”
“It’s not even that bad—”
Pop laughed. “Try pullin’ that shit with someone that’ll believe you.”
“You’re right,” I huffed. “It sucks. But I wasn’t going to try to guilt him for going home, you know? Like, if he was okay with me feeling like I’d been run over by a truck, then what the hell would spelling it out for him do?”
“So you didn’t want to tell him about it, but you wanted him to realize it anyway and make changes,” he replied drolly. “That’s some backward shit.”
“No,” I argued. I paused, struggling to explain it. “He knows that mating heat symptoms are painful, right? So if I whined to him about it, what difference would it make, really? Like, hey dude, I know you already know that this is painful, but I’m going to reiterate that fact for you.”