The Catacombs (Cult #2) Read Online Penelope Sky

Categories Genre: Dark, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Cult Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
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My brother’s eyes snapped wide open at my comment.

I didn’t give a shit.

After a dirty look, she walked away.

When she was out of earshot, Bleu rounded on me. “What the fuck was that?”

“Didn’t want to waste her time.”

“But you didn’t need to be a dick about it.”

I looked into my glass before I took a drink. “I couldn’t care less, man.”

“Well, maybe she would have moved on to me if you hadn’t scared her off.”

“Then go talk to her.”

Bleu remained in his chair, giving a slight shake of his head. “Things with Constance are pretty serious, then?”

I shrugged.

“Is that a yes or…?”

I gave another shrug.

“Fuck, just answer the question.”

I pivoted on the stool and stared at him head on. “I don’t know. As I already said.”

“How do you not know?”

I gave a slight shake of my head. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated, how?”

My elbow was propped on the bar, the closed knuckles against my temple. “It was supposed to be a one-time thing. But she didn’t want it to be. I told her I had nothing to offer her, but she didn’t care.”

“So, it is a fling, then?”

I shrugged before I took a drink.

“Okay, stop doing that.”

“No woman has ever loved my daughter more than she does. There’s a connection between them…I can see it every time they’re together. Sometimes I get angry. Angry that Beatrice was incapable of giving what Constance can so effortlessly.” I stared into my glass. “But then I become grateful, grateful that our paths crossed the way they did…like it was fate.”

My brother continued to watch me.

“Sometimes I wonder if she really is an angel. Claire’s guardian angel. Because without her…” I stared into the dark liquid as horrible images flashed across my mind, tears streaming down my daughter’s face while the monsters chased her from behind. “I met her once before, when I was looking for Claire. I didn’t remember it, not until she told me about it. She’s beautiful, but all beautiful women are unremarkable to me. But once I knew what she’d done for Claire…everything changed. She continues to do so much for my daughter, care for her in a way that I can’t…because I wasn’t there.” I kept my eyes on my glass and felt my brother’s piercing stare. “This shared experience has bonded us for life. The connection is the deepest one I’ve ever felt, second only to what I feel for Claire. I don’t love her—but she’s the only woman I could ever love.”

My brother stared for a long time before he spoke. “Then it’s definitely not a fling…”

We left the bar and walked back to my apartment.

“Are you going to kill him, then?” His hands were inside the pockets of his coat, his breath escaping as vapor. “I think you should—and I’d like to help.”

“As much as I’d like to, my hands are tied.”

“You really think he’ll leave her alone?”

“He’d be stupid to cross me, especially after what Bartholomew said.”

“Sure. Unless he moves against you first.”

We approached the front door, and I stopped at the bottom of the stairs so we wouldn’t be overheard. “One woman isn’t worth it—even if she really believes she’s an angel.”

“Well, she’s worth it to you, so…”

I stilled at the comment.

“Just don’t drop your guard.” He gave me a clap on the shoulder before he headed on his way. “Give Claire a kiss for me.”

I entered the apartment and found the girls on the couch in front of the TV. Claire was snuggled with a pillow and blanket, dead asleep. The glow from the TV blanketed her face in blue light.

Constance lay on the other couch, still in her jeans and boots. Her makeup was smeared in places, as if she’d dozed off for a bit too. She slowly sat up and ran her fingers through her hair to pull it out of her face. Her light eyes met mine—beautiful and bright. They captured my focus and held it like the barrel of a gun.

I scooped Claire into my arms and carried her to bed. She stayed asleep as I carried her down the hallway and tucked her in for the night. I gave her two kisses on the forehead. One from me, and one from her Uncle Bleu. “Love you, sweetheart.” I turned off the light and headed to the door.

Her incoherent mumbling followed me. “Lovyouto…”

That hot warmth moved down my throat and deposited into my heart. Like gaseous vapor, it expanded everywhere, getting into my lungs then circulating in my blood. She was the only person who could make me feel this way, joyous and heartbroken at the exact same time. I closed the door and returned to the living room.

Constance had cleaned up the area, folding the blanket and draping it over the back of the couch, fluffing the pillows, putting away the mugs of hot cocoa they’d enjoyed before passing out on the couch. When I returned to the room, I had her full attention. Her spine was straight and she was tense, but not tense in fear. It was almost like a soldier who stood at attention out of respect and admiration. “How was your night?”



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