Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Nadje’s mouthwatering profile caught his attention when she twisted her long hair into a knot. She swiped her perspiring nape, large breasts rising in her dampened shirt. Her stiffened nipples pressed against the fabric, and he couldn’t stop recalling how sweet and salty those tips had been.
Broiling hot, sweaty redhead. At the thought of such a meal, his demon tongue darted in his mouth. He would lick the dampness from every inch of her, all around those pendulous breasts down to her sodden copper curls.
His cock surged in his pants, and his stomach growled. Unbidden words left his lips: “Why did you cry when we had intercourse?” He had to know! Her tears had stripped something raw inside him, left him unarmored.
“When you used me, you mean? Because pleasure had turned to pain. As you intended. I imagine most females would do anything for relief, telling you whatever you wanted to know.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “But you didn’t.”
“And you didn’t like that at all, did you?” she replied, her tone cool and calm. But her pulse beat at her throat.
He remembered that pulse against his tongue.
She caught his gaze focused on her neck. “Look, if we’re going to be partners, we stay professional. Better for business that way. Plus, I don’t want to get any closer to three times with you. Thrice in one’s arms, forever enslaved,” she said, repeating the lore. “I’ve seen the mindless sex slaves you incubi make. I don’t even like you, and I still crave you—after just one time.”
Same. Unfortunately. “I’ve never made a thrall, and I’ve no interest in trapping you thus.”
“What if I hadn’t told you things that night? Would you have risked a second time?”
“I would have brought you bliss,” he said, “without penetration.”
“Oh, nice. Good to know you had a plan, pleasure reaper.”
Heat breathed from the river, thickening the tension between them. The air grew searing, gusts flinging cinders that clung to their skin, drawn as if to blood.
They reached the banks, close enough to feel their eyelashes crisping. The crimson surface churned like a living wound.
“We’re meant to extract lava from this?” Ink said hoarsely.
“Yes. The staff and bowl are heatproof, even against this temperature.”
“Why couldn’t our patron collect it himself?”
“He rarely leaves his lair and can’t open portals far from it. And hired teleporters”—she cast Ink a sidelong glance—“aren’t known for reliability. Outsourcing the risk made sense.”
Ink rubbed his stinging eyes and stared at the lava, the age-old river seething with power. Should we tap it? “We stand at the precipice.” In more ways than one. He was reminded of the mortal tales of Icarus flying too close to the sun. Just because one can do a thing doesn’t mean one should. “Taking lava from this river feels wrong.”
Nadje hesitated, her expression half defiant, half afraid. “It does. But I’ll do it anyway.”
With or without you. The unsaid words hung in the air.
He studied her visage in the fiery light—hair glinting ruby, cheeks flushed, jaw set. “Whatever you ran from, it’s still chasing you.” A kernel of protectiveness grew.
Shrug. “Coin equals survival.”
His own share of tonight’s take would fund his next rare acquisition—the history of a Valkyrie oracle who’d predicted an entire other world of immortals living in peace with humans in Gaia as if the Exile had never happened. She’d spoken of it just before lightning had struck her down. The tome cost a fortune. What secrets would it hold about Gaia, the Skein, and immortals in other worlds?
Temptation prodded him. He unslung the staff and lowered the bowl toward the burning current. “In this wind, whatever I secure will crust over fast. Does he need it still liquid?”
“He didn’t specify,” she said. “Only that I meet him at midnight on one of these three nights, or the offer dies.”
Ink hesitated. The heat felt sentient, clawing up his arms. “Someday we might look back and wonder what we were thinking at this moment.”
“That’s the thing about the future,” she said. “It won’t exist unless you claw your way to it. I’ll sleep better tonight, dreaming about the plentiful gold I earned.”
He exhaled in resignation. “That we earned.” Carefully, he dipped the bowl. The surface hissed, then filled with molten fire. He met Nadje’s gaze as he lifted their prize.
They were still staring at each other when he realized something that gave him chills in this heat. Reflected in the vampire’s eyes was the full red of the lava, cooling not one degree.
It continued to spiral in the bowl, turning on itself, circling in perfect rhythm.
As if it lived.
Chapter 13
Inkletter
“And now, another lamentable landmark,” Ink said as he released Nadje.
At her direction, he had traced her to the demon crossroads between Grimrock and Rhun, a place that leeched cold straight into his bones, even with a bowl of lava hissing beside him.