Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
“Luna, I gave your mother my word that we would go lighter than previous generations, and I intend to keep it.”
My eyes shift to Uncle Bishop. “Okay. What is it that I am doing?”
“You didn’t hear?” he asks, one brow lifts as if he and I share a secret. Damn. Maybe it is true. He can read minds. There are people in Midnight Mayhem who can do that, but it is all bullshit. Is there anything a King doesn’t know?
He shakes his head. “No. And yes, I do know everything.” He unbuttons his suit jacket, exposing the collar beneath. Black and gray ink tattooed his skin. It's fresh, but several are fading.
“I could tell you, but I’d rather show you.”
My saliva gets stuck in my throat. “Okay…”
The car continues its drive until fatigue weighs down my eyelids, and I finally drift off. When I open them again, we’re at an airstrip. Loud jet engines howl like a pack of wolves through the forest surrounding us.
My palm stings when I force my fingers open again. Even in sleep, I clutched the necklace until it left dents in my skin. Now is not the time to be sad, so thoughts of my mother are forced away.
Lights illuminate the tarmac, lining the runway that seems to never end. Why are we at an airport? Is this how it will start?
“Quite pretty, isn’t it?” a deep voice interrupts from the driver’s seat.
My eyes fly to the rearview mirror. Impossible to recognize him from here, even if I knew him.
“The lights?” I ask, retracing the colors of the strip. “I don’t know. I think they’re rather bright.”
He chuckles, watching me from the mirror. He has to be younger than Uncle Bishop. Maybe mid-twenties.
“They remind me of Christmas.” He has a tenderness in his voice that feels warm.
My lips curve into a smile. “I’ve always been a Halloween girl myself.”
“Figures,” he jokes. “At least the planes don’t get lost.”
Uncle Bishop chats with someone outside a black airplane. It isn’t as big as the ones I’ve been on, but it is sleek and pointy. EKC is in gold cursive lettering over the right wing.
“I don’t know. I rather like being lost, don’t you?” I ask the strange man.
The skin around his eyes softens. He must have smiled. “Sure I do. But only if I know the way out.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” I widen my eyes at him playfully. “That’s where all the magic happens.”
He chuckles again just as I hear a door crack open.
“Well, too, right, kiddo. You are too right.”
“Good, you’re awake!” The voice isn’t one I expect to hear, and before I can stop myself, I jump in my seat to spin around. River Malum blinks back at me with her signature bright blue eyes. Her platinum-blonde hair is tied up in a tight pony, showcasing her dewy, soft skin. River Malum is beautiful, but we’ve never talked. I mostly kept to myself during winter vacations, but it wasn’t from the lack of some girls trying. They’d try. I was just…not interested in what they were doing. So, I kept to myself or played chess with Uncle Bishop and Nate.
“Yes?” My eyes fly back to the rearview mirror as if the stranger and I have known each other for a while and he can help with my unease.
River rolls her eyes, the corner of her mouth curving. “Luna, I promise I don’t bite.”
When I don’t move, she exhales, shuffling beside me and shutting out the sound of jet engines warming up.
“I know you don’t bite.” I put her out of her misery. I like River, probably more than I do the other two.
Stella intrigues me the most.
But River, I could like one day.
“How do you know that?” River jokes, folding her arms in front of herself. She'd clearly come off the slopes dressed in a ski jacket and puffy pants. “I could!”
Her teasing tone makes me smile.
“We’ve only ever seen each other what? Twelve times.” That isn’t a lot of time.
My cheeks warm as a chuckle eludes me, but the knowledge of the man in the driver’s seat watching us leaves me feeling comforted. Safe. As if I’ve known him all my life. Because of my photographic memory, I’m sure I don’t know who this man is.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing here, River,” I sigh, my fingers opening to reveal the necklace. There’s no point trying to be delicate by watching what I say, since I have no control over my future from here on. If they’re going to kill me, no amount of small talk is going to change that fact.
River’s almond-shaped eyes fall to my palm before traveling back up to mine. She leans forward and plucks the chain from my hand, twirling her other finger. What is she doing?
She rolls her eyes again before turning me around by my shoulders.