Trinity: Feathers and Fire Book 9 by Shayne Silvers

Author:Shayne Silvers [Silvers, Shayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Argento Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

33

I flew backwards as my fangs burst free and I tasted blood in my mouth and nose. I flew through a hazy distortion in the air and the scene abruptly changed, casting me into a dim, gloomy interior of an old house. I landed on my ass on a hard surface, and then slid backwards until I slammed into an even harder wall, judging by the cracking sound my head made upon contact.

My vision spun wildly, and I groaned, slapping my palms down to support my weight. I blinked blearily, trying to understand where I was. I saw the same hazy distortion in the air, almost like the heat waves that rose up from broiling highway roads in the height of summer. “Had to make it look authentic, Horseman,” Hermes said, his voice drifting to me through the haze despite the fact that I couldn’t see him. “And I really wanted to do that,” he added with a dark chuckle.

I vowed to myself that I would punch Hermes in the face one day.

The haze evaporated and I took stock of my surroundings, muttering under my breath in dark curses regarding the messenger god. I faced an old glass cabinet full of antique figurines and dusty books. I was in a wide hallway with marble pillars and a polished marble floor. Extravagant paintings hung from the walls, about a few hundred years out of date. Family portraits and landscapes and battles. Each painting was illuminated by a dim yellow light hanging above the frame. Was I in a museum?

The wall vibrated behind me strongly enough to make my teeth rattle. “Not a museum!” I squeaked, lurching to my feet and instinctively grabbing my ass. I almost fumbled Ryuu’s katana to the ground in my attempt to draw it. I held it out before me, jerking from left to right, fearing Hermes had suckered me into a one-way ticket to Mount Olympus or something. I was all alone. I used my free hand to wipe the blood from my nose and lip before spitting a bloody glob onto the rich wooden floor. As hard as Hermes had hit me, there was very little blood to be found and it didn’t hurt as bad as it should have. Horseman or vampire perk? I shook off the thought, not particularly caring. I froze as my eyes settled on a particular painting of a handsome man in a suit. His tie was undone, his blondish brown hair was unruly, and he had a mischievous smirk that promised trouble and dared a challenge.

It was Nate. “You really did have dirty blonde hair,” I mused out loud, smiling to myself. He’d always claimed it as his hair color, but I’d never seen proof. He stood in front of Plato’s Cave—Nate’s arcane bookstore—but it looked different and more run down. Since Nate was dangling a pair of keys from a finger, I assumed it was the day he’d purchased the place before he’d made any renovations.

A tall, muscular,

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