Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Fuc—” Hawke’s mouth froze wide open as I threw out my hands, freezing time around me. That act had been enough to calm even my highest heart rates in the past, knowing that I had all the time in the world to stop whatever was about to happen, but my heart still thundered like a fucking drum as I ran up the stairs of the house and onto the porch, ripping the door from its hinges.
As long as I didn’t come into contact with another being, I could keep my time-bubble in place.
I scented the air and immediately tasted the notes of freesia and citrus that marked Grace’s presence. There were no thoughts, no plan, no strategy that came to mind, I threw away centuries of training and acted on instinct alone. She was upstairs, and I found myself on the second floor what would have been a second later, my weapon drawn as I kicked in one door after another. The first had two kids both clutching their covers, their hair flying as if they’d just awoken from the gunfire.
Grace was in the next one.
My heart stammered, its beat erratic at the scene.
She had thrown herself in front of two girls who stood cowering in the corner, holding on to each other as a gunman in his late twenties stared them down, the flash still evident from the pistol he had pointed at them.
The bullet was inches from Grace’s chest.
My entire being flexed with a blast of acute, painful panic.
Stay calm. Breathe.
Letting go of time would ensure my mate’s death, not just in the coming weeks, but in this very instant.
Wrath vibrated my bones as I walked toward her, careful not to brush the gunman as I slid between him and the child-size desk in the room.
“What the hell were you thinking, baby?” I whispered as I approached Grace, sure that the look on my face probably more than earned me her favorite nickname of Grim. Stark terror filled her eyes, but her chin was tilted upward, and something told me she’d made her choice before putting her body in front of the girls.
She’d chosen her own death over theirs.
I didn’t need to ask why.
She had weeks.
They had decades.
Grasping the bullet, I poured my energy into shifting its trajectory back toward the shooter, giving it a little shove so it would continue back at him when I started time again.
Somehow, I managed to ignore the shriek of my instincts as I ripped myself away from Grace and out of the room. She’d never forgive me if I didn’t do the same for every other person in the house that I’d just done for her.
I cleared every other room, changing the trajectory of every bullet that had been fired except for Valor’s. Hers was already inches from the forehead of one of the shooters, and I couldn’t think of a better place for it.
Cassandra was in the third bedroom, gathering one of the kids into her arms. Lyric was with her, grabbing a baby out of its crib. And Aviana? Just because I couldn’t see her didn’t mean she wasn’t here.
No doubt Hawke would be on her the second I released time.
There were three Sons in total, sent to execute a total of nine children.
Children.
And Grace’s foster mother? She was in the final bedroom, standing just as bravely as Grace, guarding a few of her charges. I couldn’t grab the gunman without losing time, so I shoved the dresser between them, then stripped off my own Kevlar and braced it in an open drawer to protect her from any shots that could be fired before we could get back in here.
Certain that I’d found every shooter and every kid in peril, I went back to the bedroom Grace was in, stood directly in front of her and released time only long enough for the bullet to hit the shooter in the throat, then froze it again, wrapping it around Grace and I.
She blinked up at me in shock. “Ajax!”
“I’m torn between kissing the hell out of you and shaking some sense into you!” I snapped, pulling her into my arms and lifting her against my chest.
“I just—” she started, winding her arms around my neck.
“No!” I held her tight. “I’m not even remotely ready to hear it yet.”
“The kids…” She glanced their way.
“It will be less than a second for them,” I promised her. “But if I don’t get you out of this house right now, I’m not sure I can be responsible for my actions.” That was putting it lightly. The storm brewing within me was the kind that could topple cities and rearrange mountains.
She nodded, and I whisked her out of the house, charging down the stairs and out the door to where my brothers were all mid-lunge toward the house, with the exception of Alek, who was focused inwardly, no doubt sending the visuals and location of the house so others could wend.