Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
At the beginning of the hallway, he peeked out a set of blinds. The streetlights illuminated patches of sidewalk in a buttery glow. Across the street, a porch light gave off a weak yellow beam. Next door to that, a small light at the side of the house was on.
Yes, this was definitely limited to his house.
Please have forgotten to pay the bill, Nessa, he thought. Please have been so stressed and sad and busy that you’ve forgotten to pay the bill.
He ignored the pang of guilt at why she would’ve forgotten as he trailed his fingers against the wall, feeling his way. A doorframe announced the bathroom, the first door on the right. The next was his room, the smaller of the two. Hers was on the left, at the end.
He backed up to her door, peering into the darkness of his bedroom. A spell revealed the room was empty. No one had come through his window, and if they had, they weren’t in there now.
Nessa’s door opened with no sound. He sent a spell in there as well while also listening. Her breathing was slow and even, evidence of deep sleep. It was testimony to how tired she was all the time now that his presence didn’t rouse her. Her window remained shut, the spell still intact.
His sigh of relief was barely audible as he retreated down the hall. The front door was closed and locked. Spell intact. The door to the garage was as well. Windows were secure. Random peeks out of the blinds revealed no one wandering around. Shooting a spell through a wall to search for bodies wasn’t ideal—the accuracy would be greatly reduced, and a good and ingenious magical worker would have invented a potion to mask themselves within such a spell.
Why hadn’t he created a spell to mask himself against revealing spells? Shortsighted.
The best option was to go outside and use the spell there. Sadly, he was a coward, though not for his own safety. Only a charging alpha shifter really got his blood pumping these days, or maybe an alpha gargoyle. But if he went out and got himself caught or killed, they’d come for Nessa. She’d have no protection. She didn’t have the Ivy House crew shielding her or promising retribution if someone should grab her. She didn’t even have Edgar, who, somehow, through no logical explanation, always seemed to know where to be at the exact time he needed to be there.
Even thinking about it made Sebastian’s mind spin. He hadn’t had that vampire’s dose of odd logic in nearly three months.
He settled for using the spell through a window, hunched in the corner and trying not to be seen, just in case.
Nothing.
He tried through several others, working the angles. All of them came up empty.
Maybe it really was the energy bill.
He straightened up and felt his way over to the kitchen counter, where he’d left his laptop. Its glow made him squint. The Wi-Fi symbol wasn’t there.
No power, no Wi-Fi, he thought in annoyance, glancing around for his phone. Normal people would’ve had it in their hand or pocket, ready to call the cops.
Of course, it wasn’t like the cops could help him against his enemies. They didn’t even know magical enemies existed. But besides them, there was no one to call. His circle had been reduced to the walls of their house. After his sister had died, it had been enough. Now…
Why did his and Nessa’s life always seem to land them in the stink? They must’ve been cursed.
He didn’t bother with the flashlight. The house was tiny, the smallest they’d inhabited since splitting from Ivy House. Actually, it was the smallest they’d been in since he could remember, but they hadn’t had many options with such short notice.
His phone waited on the kitchen counter next to his plate with toast crumbs. Whoops. He’d meant to wash that.
Thankfully, he still had cell service.
He worked his way back to the table, sat, and unlocked the home screen. He was about to tap the browser app when a face took over the screen.
Adrenaline coursed through him. His finger froze, hovering above the image. She had jade-green eyes—the result of contacts, surely—and spiky green hair with black roots. Her lips parted, and he knew this was somehow live, or perhaps filmed and now playing. This wasn’t some random social media short he’d accidentally swiped into, if that were even possible. He wasn’t like Nessa when it came to technology.
“The computer is a window into your soul.” The person’s voice was gruff, but the face was soft, mostly free of lines except for around the eyes. He or she smiled—he couldn’t tell sex, and he certainly couldn’t tell magical type, not with so little to go off. “Just kidding.” The smile smoothed out into a serious expression. “But the computer is a window into your life. Look at me! I’m like a Peeping Tom over here.”