Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“You can bring her up with you, you know. This place isn’t just for you and me.”
“This is not a conversation I wanted my leelan to hear.”
“She’s heard it before. My Rahvyn was the face of you, but Beth was in charge, all along.”
As a fresh wave of aggression hit him, Wrath cursed under his breath and got to the point.
“I need you to give me my eyesight back.” When there was no reply—because clearly Lassiter was choosing words carefully—he slapped a grip on the angel’s forearm. “Don’t give me that non-interference bullshit. You’ve helped before and I need your help now. You’ve got to give me my eyes so I can go out and fight.”
The angel broke away, and the sound of him pacing around again in the grass that was always the same cropped height, always with the perfect blades, was soft as a brush of cloth over skin.
“I need my eyes, angel, and you can give them to me. You have to do this for me. I’m the King, goddamn it. I command you—”
“You remember how the Omega got access to all the vases?” Lassiter cut in. “The evil got a nice juice right at the end so it could keep fighting. You know why he got the location to the Tomb and those shelves with all those hearts? It happened because my predecessor got over-involved and was punished. We’re not rolling those dice with the Creator again. Fuck knows what Lash would be granted. And besides, you can’t go out and fight, Wrath.”
“The fuck I can’t—”
“We just plugged a thirty-year absence with my mate. I’m not doing that again to Rahvyn—and besides, there’s no way we’re winning the lottery twice in a row and saving your ass by hiding you in time like that. It was a one in a million—”
“Rahvyn resurrected Nate. If I get into trouble, she can do the same to me—”
“Never again with that.” Lassiter’s voice got very low. “My shellan is out of that line of work. That male is out of control because of what Rahvyn did to save him. It’s eaten her alive, the way he turned out, so no, she’s not going to ruin anybody else’s life by saving them. That card is no longer available to you or anyone else.”
Wrath grit his molars. “You have the power to help me and you know how high the stakes are—”
“I already have helped you, asshole. You know that dog you love so much? You want to ask yourself why he’s still alive thirty years later? How about all the humans in the lives of your fighters? You think I’m not already walking the line by making sure they don’t age?”
Wrath cursed again. “Fine, I’ll just go out and fight blind—”
Suddenly, Lassiter’s voice was right in front of him. “No, you won’t. You’re not doing that shit. You’re going to be what we need you to be, on that throne—”
Wrath shoved the angel away. “I need to fight!”
“Then do it from where you sit! Do you think you’re not out there with the Brotherhood already? They fight for you, for your family, for the species you are in charge of. You are their ruler, you are more important than combat.”
“For three decades, they needed me and I wasn’t there. They were hurt, and I wasn’t there. They killed our enemy, and I wasn’t there. And now I’m back and I’m still sitting on the sidelines—”
“You’re doing what you need to do. We have fighters, we have soldiers. We need a leader—and fuck you, dickhead, you’re it. Show a little self-control, would you? There’s only room for one half-cocked idiot between the pair of us, and I’m not giving up my day job being a douchebag. So that leaves you being the reasonable adult in the room, you’re welcome.”
Before Wrath could respond, Lassiter continued intently, “You were born to lead. Not because of who your sire was.” There was a subtle poke on Wrath’s chest, right where the star scar of the Black Dagger Brotherhood had been punched into his left pec. “You’re a leader because of who you are. Be that male for us. Don’t let the anger get away from you. I’m telling you right now, your wrath will be the death of us all.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The key ring was the key, and thank God he hadn’t left it anywhere, but had taken Mickey’s open-sesame with him when he’d stolen his change of clothes.
As Evan limped down the street, he wasn’t sure which one he was on. He was orientating himself with peephole views of the bridges, and knew that if he kept going, sooner or later the triangulation would occur.
And it did.
The walk-up he’d been searching for was sandwiched between Needle, a tattoo and piercing parlor, and a rare book dealer, and like the rest of the mixed-use neighborhood, the apartment building wasn’t much to look at from the outside. It was well-maintained, however, with no windows broken, the steps shoveled, and nothing crumbling at the roofline or on the corners. As he took out the key to the vestibule, he remembered when Mickey had first rented the place secretly. His cousin had been so proud, and Evan had been impressed because that’s what had been expected of him. The truth was, he’d thought it was nothing to brag about.