“Wait, them?” interrupted Xavier.
“Oh, Bowen was here, too,” Wynter explained. “He wasn’t in on it, but he witnessed what happened and planned to do nothing about it. He intended to help her escape and cover for her. Look, I’m feeling super dizzy, and I have evidence to clean up, so can we maybe get—thank you, Anabel.”
Wynter drank the rejuvenating brew while her crew cursed the berserkers to hell and back. Then, gratefully taking the cleansing potion from Anabel, Wynter returned to the shed and tossed the majority of it over both the pool of blood and the footprints left by both berserkers. Once the floor was completely clear, she dripped the last of the potion onto her tee. The rip remained, but the bloodstain vanished.
“People are going to notice they’re missing,” said Hattie as she and the others entered.
Wynter sighed. “I know. Sticking them in the netherworld was probably shitty, but I didn’t know where else to hide them. And like I said, I couldn’t kill them. This way, if Cain touches her soul or Azazel touches Bowen’s, the Ancients will sense that they’re alive.”
“Which means no one will suspect foul play and, as such, not come knocking on our front door,” said Xavier.
Wynter nodded. “Exactly. Annette actually packed a bag and had a car ready. She told Bowen she left it outside the tunnel. Maybe I could drive it off a cliff or something.”
“I’ll take care of that,” said Delilah. “I can sneak out of the town as a cat. No one will spot me. People might assume that Bowen left with her.”
“Possibly,” said Wynter.
Glancing around, Anabel shuddered. “I can feel the rage in here. Your deity was pissed, huh? I’m surprised your monster didn’t surface and go AWOL.”
“The deity stayed its hand,” Wynter explained.
Each time she felt herself dying, she wondered if it would be the one time that she didn’t come back. But it was always as if something spat her back out of the netherworld. She’d appear there long enough to feel the mists brush her soul, hear broken screams, and catch a glimpse of this or that … and then she’d be back.
Was there anything that could kill her for good? Wynter really didn’t know. She suspected that the Ancients could. They’d at the very least try if they learned what she strove so hard to hide. Which was one of the reasons why being around Cain so much wasn’t smart. It was like flirting with death, in a way. She couldn’t help herself, though. Or maybe she just didn’t want to.
He drew her back to him so effortlessly, and it wasn’t simply about sex. It was as if the darkness in him spoke to her own. Attracted it, even. It was hard to explain. But when she’d been involved with other males, she’d always felt like she didn’t ‘fit’ with them. Felt that they were lightyears apart in terms of what sort of people they were.
Cain, though … he was someone who truly knew about darkness. Someone who understood how vengeance could be such a driving force. Someone who made herfeel.Really feel.
Fucked up though it might seem, she actually felt comfortable around him on some level. He was dangerous, yes, but so was she. He was capable of extreme cruelty, yes, but again so was she.
If anyone could understand her, if anyone could take her as she was, it would be him. And that was sort of comforting. So it was a real fucking shame that there might come a day when he actively tried to kill her.
Striding up the path toward Wynter’s cottage, Cain nodded at the lycans in the neighboring yard. Ever since the first night she’d slept in his bed, she hadn’t slept anywhere else. She’d come to him every evening after dinner, and she’d eaten breakfast with him each morning before heading home. So when she hadn’t turned up as usual that evening, he’d thought about sending Maxim to bring her to the Keep. But then Cain had reconsidered it, because summoning her felt … wrong. She wasn’t a mere resident, she was his. So he’d made his way to her home to find out the reason for the delay.
He knocked on the door, which swung open moments later to reveal Xavier.
“Is Wynter here?” Cain asked.
He nodded, stepped away from the door, and indicated for Cain to follow him inside. Strolling through the living area, Cain noticed a black cat curled up on a footstool near the fire. A cat with hot pink nail polish on her claws and what looked like gold mascara on her whiskers. She opened one eye, regarded him carefully, and then shut said eye.
Walking into the kitchen, Cain found Wynter sat at the table, her head resting on the surface, her eyes closed. He frowned, not liking how pale and drained she looked. His creature stilled, just as uneasy. They’d never once seen her look fragile before.
Ishtar’s words from earlier rushed back to Cain …
Something will kill her eventually. Age, illness, an accident, an attack.
Wynter had had a broken sleep the night before, so maybe it had simply taken its toll.
“She drifted off while eating,” Xavier told him, switching a kettle on to boil, utterly at ease with turning his back on an Ancient—something people generally avoided doing. In fact, whenever Cain entered a house, its inhabitants usually became tense and wary and either stared at the floor or watched his every move. Anabel and Hattie? They gave him a single nod and then went back to their conversation.
Pointing at an open book, Hattie looked at Anabel. “All I’m saying is that, realistically, her cervix would be in ruins if she had a harem that large. Especially when one of them is an alien with an overgrown appendage.”
Anabel briefly glanced away from a cauldron. “You’re concerned about realism when you’re reading a book about ETs with giant penises?”
“My first husband, bless his soul, was hung like a bull. My cervix took athrashingduring that marriage. If he’d been part of a harem, well, I can tell you right now that my ovaries would have been scrambled eggs. Anyway, back to my question—”
“No, not back to the question. We should forget about the question. We shouldalwaysforget about your questions.”