Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
That’s when a scream ripped through the air and made my blood freeze.
An explosion shook the ground underneath me.
I threw the door open just as Verona ran past. A tiger shifter leapt through the air, ripping through the fragile barrier of red mana Verona tried to erect. Her phone flew out of her hand. It cracked against the wall. She tripped. Screamed again.
It all happened so fast. The tiger shifter tore into her throat. Blood sprayed across the wall and coated the portrait of President Cruz, some of it splattering on my shirt, landing on my mouth.
This wasn’t a dream at all—it was a complete nightmare.
The tiger turned its bloody face toward me and leapt.
Chapter 9
Party Crashers
Xavier
I launched myself off the couch, simultaneously making a solid wall of sand appear in front of Blake.
“Get behind me!”
The tiger’s claws broke through the sand. Blake stepped aside and began to shift. The wall crumbled and dropped the tiger at my feet. I launched a kick into the tiger’s unsuspecting jaw. The massive head lurched sideways but didn’t appear to do much damage. Those saucer-wide green eyes locked on me. The shifter completely ignored the growling Blake and swiped at me with those saber-like claws.
“Get back!” I shouted at Blake, who was trying to enter the fray by biting at the tiger’s tail.
He’s trying to distract him.
Blake listened to me this time. He stopped his attack, keeping in his wolf form and baring his teeth, his entire body poised to leap into action. The tiger was razor-focused on me as he prowled toward me, those shoulder blades rising and falling with every slow step. He didn’t seem to care about Blake.
I pulled at the energy inside me and formed a dagger made of sand, the blade sharp as diamond. An arrow between the eyes would have been easier, but I had to make do.
My legs hit the vice president’s desk. More shouts rang from the hallway, piercing, howling shouts for help. This had to end.
I took the offensive, rushing forward before the tiger shifter could gain another advantage. I tossed a cloud of sand from my free hand. The tiger cried out as the sand blasted its face. It gave me an opening.
I slashed out with my blade. The tiger let loose a blood-chilling roar, a streak of blood cutting across its orange-and-black face. Fury fueled it as the shifter ran at me. It lunged, but I was ready for it. I rolled back over the desk and ducked. The tiger flew through the air and slammed into the wall beside me, its chest wide open to a strike.
I gripped the hilt tight and took the hit. The sand dagger found its mark, cutting straight into its heart just as a searing pain shot through my arm. The tiger shifter went limp. Its claws retracted from my arm, blood immediately seeping through my torn shirt.
More shouting. More people needing help.
I got up from the floor. Blake shifted back into human form and rushed to my side. “Fuck, you’re hurt. Here.” Without wasting a beat, Blake snatched off his tie and began to wrap it around the deep puncture wounds.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. We need to get you out of here.”
“You need to stop bleeding is what needs to happen. Why didn’t you rewind time just now?”
“I can’t do it in frequent succession”—I winced as Blake wrapped the tie around me—“and I don’t want to risk needing it. I can handle a little pain.”
Blake looked down at the dead tiger shifter, blood pooling on the dark evergreen carpet. “Do you think it’s the same people from Joshua Tree?”
“Possible,” I said, reaching for his wrist but grabbing his hand instead. “Let’s go.”
I led him out of the office, where Verona lay dead on the floor. Blake sucked in a pained breath. Loud crashes and small explosions sounded from the direction of the gala.
I tugged Blake in the opposite direction. My main priority was getting him somewhere safe. Then I could circle back and help fight off whatever attack was happening.
Blake resisted. “Wait,” he said. “My mom and Cassius were in the gala. And Warrick. We need to make sure they’re okay.”
Warrick didn’t worry me; I knew he could handle himself. I wasn’t sure about his friend and mother, though. The determination in his eyes told me all I needed to know. We ran in the direction of the screams. There were bodies in the hall. Some were shifters, other humans. Five Secret Service agents ran toward us. Between them was Joshua. He appeared scared but unharmed. It struck me as odd that the secretary of transportation needed a bigger entourage than the vice president’s son.
“What’s happening?” I asked one of the agents.
“The gala was attacked,” she shouted over her shoulder as they all bolted past, red mana swirling around their arms.