Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 124323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“But Euphoria—”
“Burn it to the ground.”
“Fuck no.”
“When you’re able, visit Monyet and stop the production of elixir. They won’t be able to finish the next batch without me anyway, so the danger of it dies with me. Tell Peter Beck to use the rest of his ingredients and put it toward some other cure.”
Cal’s tone grew angry. “You expect me just to delete your life? Just like that.”
“Call it a final decree from a dead man.”
“If you play it smart and keep a defibrillator close—”
“Thanks for your service, Cal. And for your friendship.”
“Sullivan, don’t.” His anger slipped into urgency. “She’ll never forgive you. You die on her, and she’ll—”
“Hate me, yes.” I looked out the window at the snow-dusted rooftops of a city sprawled beneath us.
Geneva.
Switzerland.
The location of my end.
“It’s better she hates me than loves me. Remember? Everything that loves me ends up dying. Everything that I love I end up killing. This way...I’ll break the chain. She’ll be free. I’ll be free. My goddesses will be free. Jess and you will be free.”
The landing gear whirred from the fuselage beneath my feet.
My heart picked up a quicker patter, still cushioned from spikes of stress thanks to Tritec.
Messy emotions would not get in the way of me eradicating Drake.
Fury would not make me sloppy.
Weakness would not make me fail.
Not this time.
This time, I would win.
I was ruthless.
Heartless.
Ready.
I’d said my farewells and given my blessings.
I’m coming, Eleanor.
“Goodbye, Cal. And thank you.”
Chapter Five
I WAS GRATEFUL, EVEN in this nightmare.
Grateful for the sleep I’d gotten on the plane and the handful of grapes I’d stolen as we’d walked through a house full of Regency elegance. Grateful for the renewed vigour from rest and fructose. Grateful for the warmth of the residence after the bite of winter outside.
Drake led the way, strolling arrogantly through a house that’d been here long before the other suburbs. As we’d driven from the airport, behind blackened windows of a fortified SUV, I’d looked into the driveways of quaint houses and manicured lawns of cramped subdivisions, parcels of land getting smaller the larger the city became.
Not this house.
This house had a guard turret at the bottom of a long sweeping driveway. This house had frost-sprinkled oak trees lining the expansive snowy lawns and a large pond glittering with ice in the distance.
Drake hadn’t said a word as he’d dragged me up the stone steps and over a double door threshold with carved angels in the wood.
Angels...how ironic.
Perhaps, it was Lucifer instead. The fallen one who’d turned his tricks to treachery instead of scripture.
The foyer held double-height ceilings with huge architraves and heavy brocade on the walls. The parlour matched with equally impressive doorways and sweeping views over boxed hedgerows and military-precise cut lawn with snow pushed to the side in drifts. The kitchen held a fruit bowl overflowing with offerings—where I snagged my grapes—while cabinets glistened with a pearly veneer.
Each room held hints to its history but also buckled beneath modern styling.
“Set it up in here,” Drake commanded as he hauled me into another lounge, this one deeper and darker than the rest. A tomb within a home. Navy wallpaper and black ceiling; spotlights highlighted a library on one wall and oppressive artwork of hunts and hounds on the other.
Watery sunlight did its best to illuminate the shadowy corners, but we were no longer in the tropics, and the sun had a weaker quality. It was grey light not golden. Sad light not hopeful.
It set my teeth on edge. My empty stomach snarled.
“Grab a curtain tieback,” Drake snapped as his hired goons deposited the boxes of elixir onto the chaise by the pine-cone-filled fireplace. No flames licked at the stone façade or gave off cheery heat. But the house wasn’t cold, so some form of heating had to be operational to keep the wintery chill at bay.
A mercenary arrived with a plaited rope of velvet matching the sapphire drapes.
The blue reminded me of Sully.
Of his eyes as they filled with ardent hunger.
Of his need as he undressed me.
Are you alive, Sully?
I swallowed hard, blocking out thoughts of him.
I needed to stay on guard, on edge.
The moment the mercenary dropped the tieback into Drake’s hand, he came toward me and chuckled. “I was contemplating playing together tomorrow. After all, we’ve lived through a lot, you and me.” Drake took my hand, kissing my knuckles as if he could convince me he was a gentleman of the manor courting me. “However, I’ve learned that waiting for what you want only leads to disappointment. I’m done waiting. So...I’m taking.” He rose from his slight bow over my hand. “I’m taking you, and you’ll be happy to know my libido has returned in full fervour thanks to the long rest on the plane.”
Grabbing my wrist, he dragged me forward until he forced my palm against the erection in his crinkled trousers.