Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Until now.
She tries to whack my hand away, but I tighten my grip. “Halo…”
“It’s not me, you ass!” Her eyes flash with defiance. “We—” She gestures between her and the girls. “—have been doing more than you know. The Fathers approved a long time ago, War, so if you have beef, go take it up with them.”
I shove her back and as soon as she’s not in my grip, I fucking hate it.
Priest finally rounds the car, his eyes meeting the girls. “I thought he was joking.”
Vaden flicks Stella against her head with a chuckle.
“What do you mean you thought he was joking?” I flex my fingers in the palm of my hand to stop myself from punching him straight in the jaw.
Priest turns over his shoulder an inch, to make sure no one is watching before coming back to me. “Years ago, he said the girls would join when the time was right, but I thought he only meant Halen.”
“War!” River snaps her fingers. “I’m not a fucking kid anymore, and when we go inside we can talk about it all. Together. As a family. As it was supposed to be.”
My jaw turns to steel. I need to put some distance between me and everyone standing here at this moment. Did I think this would happen? No. I didn’t. I made the mistake of assuming that it would only ever be Halen who would be partaking in the ritual. I did the unthinkable so that she didn’t have to.
All along, it didn’t matter.
Shoving the front door open, I don’t stop when Katsia halts halfway down the round staircase, her satin robe split enough to see a slither of her sun-bronzed skin.
A glass of brandy dangles between her fingers. “Lover boy, what’s wrong?” Her crimson hair flows down the angle of her back.
I stop. “Did you know about the girls? That they’ve been training for almost as long as we have?”
She lifts the glass to her lips, her lovat-tinted eyes on mine. She doesn’t have to answer because I already know what it is.
I ignore her, heading for the hallway that leads to the open space where we have our conversations while we’re here.
“War! I was only doing what I was—” I kick the door closed once I’m inside and suck in a breath. I find what I want on top of the square coffee table nestled between two wingback leather sofas. I slump down into the cushions and reach for the platinum box that’s on the table, flicking away the eight-ball of coke and nabbing the rolled blunt. My skin dampens from all the adrenaline pulsing through my system. Anger. Rage that I need to work off.
I grip the bottom of my shirt and shove it over my head, tossing it onto the floor.
I place the joint between my lips, blaze the end, and drag my fingers through my hair. I lean back against my chair and gaze up to the ceiling as I shove my jeans down enough to reveal the band of my briefs.
Fuck.
I should have fucked Halen instead of giving her all that fucking pleasure. Now I want to take it back and make the bitch weep.
I hold in the smoke and let the toffee-laced weed fill my lungs.
When the door opens again, I breathe out a cloud of smoke, letting it float up to the gold-plated ceiling. My muscles relax, but the rage still burns the back of my mind. It’ll stay there. Until I make her hurt.
It’s a shit place for her to be when I’m feeling this way.
As soon as she walks through the door, I feel her. Her emerald eyes sweep over my body before settling on my face. I give her nothing.
If I can’t give her anger, I’ll give her nothing.
Everyone files in around her and when the door closes, I’ve smoked enough herb to not see red.
Priest saunters to the computer desk and leans against the edge. His finger taps against the structure and I count how many times it connects with the wood. One. Two. Three. Four—five. He’s bored, combating the hunger to sink his fingers into fresh meat.
“Start talking.”
“Well…” Stella trudges her thigh-high boots to the sofa beside mine. She folds her leg over the other and spreads her arms over the edge of the couch. “Like Halen said. We have been training for the better part of ten years for this. We, just like you all—” She points her black coffin-shaped nail to all of us. “—made ourselves busy with little hobbies on the side.”
“Where did you train?” Vaden isn’t pissed because the way he sees it, and the way he’s always seen it, is if she’s close to us, she’s safe. He wants his little vampire sister in the fold. This is a win for him and their Addams family.