Buried Destiny (The Vein Chronicles Book 4) by Anne Malcom

Author:Anne Malcom [Malcom, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-28T18:30:00+00:00

Rick hadn’t let Helen come to Europe, which I thought was really unfair. It’s not like she’d been able to travel lately. Like geeze, let her do some shopping, eat some pasta, whatever.

But no, it was too dangerous.

As if staying inside the royal compound that seemed to be constantly under attack these days was somehow safer for her. So that meant he was not only a pain in the ass to travel with, but we had to move Sophie’s unconscious body with us without the binding spell. Helen had promised that the little object I’d shoved into her mouth would tide us over, but who could know? Homegirl didn’t even know what an iPhone was.

We had to take the book that was creepily hovering beside her body with us, too. It had been untouched by flames, despite the fact it looked about old enough to turn to dust if someone turned the pages wrong.

There was also a power to it.

Something that, even amongst half my insides being exposed, my arm being skinned, and the church around me being on fire, I noticed.

Rick had tried to grab it once since I was too busy holding on to Sophie and the wolf was still creeping back from the edge of death.

The first time he tried to touch it, he went flying across the room.

I tried not to smile when that happened.

Really hard.

I failed.

But then I tried to be helpful and place Sophie’s limp hand on it, thinking there was obviously some kind of spell over it that stopped anyone but her from being able to touch it.

Bingo.

It worked.

Seriously, what would’ve happened if these two ‘kings’ tried to do this without me.

I’ll tell you what. They both would’ve died. Sophie would continue on her merry way, burning up Europe and the world would be fucked.

As it was, Milan was probably going to be up shit creek, even though Rick would call up what remained of our witch allies once we got on the plane. The drive there was not a great time. We got blood all over the nice white leather seats. Both men were too close to death to carry the witchy dead weight. Never mind I had to rip out my own organs so my stomach could close and grow new ones. Men, vampires, werewolves, humans, all babies.

The smoke was so thick that we barely made it out of Milan. But we managed.

It called for a tricky crossing over the Atlantic to be sure. And I didn’t have Thorne’s hand crushing the bones in mine to distract me from her waking up grumpy and crashing the plane. So I was also in a bad mood.

The only one that hadn’t been in a bad mood, somehow, was the wolf. You would think after everything that happened, with everything we might have to do, he’d be surly to say the least. But he’d cradled the handcuffed — magical handcuffs, of course — Sophie in his arms looking as content as I’d ever seen him.

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