Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“So, I say a chant in the forest where I landed, and it’ll take me back home?” I ask. “That sounds easy enough.”
“It’s that simple.” Beatrix scribbles something on a sheet of paper and slides it across the table to Caz before slapping the book closed. “Go today, back to where you came from. Get it done and get it over with. And whatever you do, don’t go falling in love along the way. It’ll only make your lives harder.”
I push to a stand just as Caz does. “As I said before, you’ll have no concern there. No one’s falling in love. She’ll be home before we all know it. Thank you for your time, Beatrix.”
Alora smiles graciously at Beatrix, but just as she starts to speak, the house shakes, like an earthquake is passing. Trinkets on the shelf clatter, the windows rattle, and the floor vibrates beneath my feet. I look across the room at Caz, who is drawing his gun, but it’s too late.
An explosion so powerful rips a hole in the side of Beatrix’s house and causes everyone to fall.
Twenty-Eight
WILLOW
“Get up.” Caz’s voice is gruff. I try looking up at him, but he’s not clear. A cloud of dust surrounds us, and I’ve landed outside the back of Beatrix’s house. I push up on my hands, cough, then wince from a sharp pain in my upper thigh.
“Ow! Shit,” I hiss. I look down and a piece of metal is stuck there. It’s ripped through my pants. Blood drips from the wound it’s created, and the sight of it instantly makes me nauseous.
“Oh my God,” I breathe out shakily. “It—it’s stuck in my leg.”
“Can you move at all?” Caz demands. “We have to move.”
“No, I can’t fucking move! I have a piece of metal stuck in my fucking leg, Caz!”
“Give us a look.” He lowers to a squat to examine it. “If I remove it, you’ll bleed more.” He sighs and stands, but then there’s a loud bang. I gasp, and Caz whips his head up to find the source of the noise. Another bang goes off, and he ducks, cursing beneath his breath.
“It’s the fucking Rippies!” a deep voice shouts from a distance. It sounds like Killian. “They’ve brought a fucking tank!”
“Shit,” Caz curses again, side-eyeing me. I can tell he’s tempted to leave me here. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He looks from me to study his surroundings.
“What the hell is happening?”
“What’s it look like? We’re under attack by the fucking Rippies.”
“What is with your family and these fucking Rippies?” I try to bend my knee but wince again and hiss through my teeth. It’s useless. I can’t move my leg or bend it without pain searing through it.
Love of Vakeeli! Of course, this would happen right now! We get this close and those bloody Rippies come to fuck it all up. And I can’t just leave her here. They’ll enslave her for sure.
“Enslave me?” My eyes stretch wide as I stare into his eyes.
“Stay out of my fucking head,” he growls, pointing a stern finger at me, then he grips my arm and helps me stand. I cry from the pain, not surprised that my reaction is a swift punch to his chest. “I know you’re in pain right now, but I told you, we have to move. We’re sitting ducks here.”
“I—I can hardly walk,” I say as he turns and starts walking anyway.
“Hardly is better than not at all.”
I grimace as more gunshots sound off. To my left, I spot Alora and Proll running toward a line of trees. She’s holding handfuls of her dress as she runs, and when she glances back at me, her eyes widen and her lips part. Ahead of them is Beatrix, who is covered in debris, her hair even grayer from it, and isn’t slowing down for anyone.
“Up ahead,” Caz says. He eyes me, and with a huff he rushes back to drape my arm around his shoulder and assist me. We’re getting closer to the trees. We can hide, and maybe we’ll be safe.
Well, that’s what I think until Caz’s grip loosens around me. He grunts, and I fall to the ground as he stumbles forward. A cry breaks from my lungs as I land on the damn piece of metal again.
“Fuck!” I scream, flopping onto my back and gripping my thigh.
I turn my head to see what the hell just happened, and Caz is standing just a few steps away. There’s a trickle of blood dripping down the back of his head that wasn’t there before. He’s facing a man in a distressed brown fedora who’s holding a thick, black club. Caz glares at the club before staring into the man’s eyes.
“If you’re going to have the audacity to hit me,” Caz growls, “At least be smart about it and finish the job.”