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“There were at least two hundred troops.”
Not a small force, then. “Do you have any idea when we should expect them to arrive?”
She sucked in her lips and again gave a sad shake of the head. “No feelings or knowings accompanied the vision.”
For fuck’s sake. He didn’t really see the point in Nemesis sending her a vision if there weren’t any specifics to truly help. “Describe the area in your vision as best you can.”
She very thoroughly reeled off a description that instantly improved his mood. Stuck in Devil’s Cradle, Cain had never explored the badlands. He had, however, studied the landscape many times using the font in his temple—fire-gazing enabled him to see much of the land and the world beyond it. As such, he had a pretty good idea of where Saul and the other Aeons would meet.
Done, she shrugged. “There’s really no more I can tell you.”
“Thank you, Demetria. Let me know if you have any other visions.”
She bowed her head. “Of course.”
They both walked out of the “alley,” where they then separated. The oracle made a beeline for the arched opening in the curtain wall, just as he had himself intended to do. But now he needed to head back to the Keep.
As he cut through the bailey, satisfaction, worry, and a sense of battle-readiness fought for supremacy inside him. Abel would soon come, Cain would soon get to end him, and the Ancients as a whole would then be another step closer to freedom. But the problem was that Saul would most definitely relay a very fundamental detail to Abel—he would tell him that Wynter was Cain’s consort. Abel would then be even more determined to get his hands on her. He would be thrilled by the prospect of being able to subject Cain’s consort to years of horrifying torture.
Which was not going to fucking happen.
No. Cain would ensure it never came to pass. He and the rest of Devil’s Cradle would be ready for Abel and his army.
Even at this very moment, people were patrolling the badlands, looking for any sign that the Aeons were getting close. It didn’t seem wise to tell them to concentrate solely on the area that Demetria described. Cain would never rely fully on a precognitive vision for guidance. The future wasn’t fixed. Unexpected things could happen any time that created a domino effect—altering people’s decisions, actions, and paths—which might then render such a vision useless.
Still, he needed to inform the other Ancients of her claims. Since that wasn’t something he needed to personally do, he tracked down Maxim and said, “I have a job for you.”
*
“I forgot how much I like these,” said Xavier before taking a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich. “We’ve got to have these for lunch more often.”
Wynter nodded, pushed aside her empty plate, and then took a sip of her water. They’d temporarily closed their “store” to have lunch. Everyone other than Hattie was gathered around the dining table. She’d gone to sit outside and read, now that she’d finished her soup.
Loud, deep growls filtered through the open window.
Rolling her eyes, Delilah brushed her hands together to dust off crumbs now that she was done with her lunch. “Sounds like the lycans are posturing again.”
Both packs had taken it upon themselves to keep an eye out for Saul, viewing the coven as under their protection. The problem was that the two packs still didn’t get along very well, so they often took to barking or growling at each other.
At first, it had unnerved the guards who’d stationed themselves in the backyard at Cain’s order, but they’d quickly gotten used to the lycans’ antics.
It was kind of weird having such tight security measures, but Wynter wasn’t about to complain. Not when so many visible guards would serve as a deterrent to Saul.
Initially—worried that he might try to break into the cottage one night and not wanting her coven to have to deal with him alone—she’d intended to spend her nights here until he was caught. But Cain had pointed out that there was no reason for Saul to do such a thing, considering it was well-known that she slept at Cain’s Keep.
Her coven had agreed with him that she shouldn’t change her sleeping arrangements, claiming that if the two people that Saul badly wanted dead began sleeping in a building that had fewer defenses than Cain’s Keep, they’d be making it easy for him to get to them. It would also serve to lure Saul to the cottage, which was the last thing Wynter wanted.
Really, her main worry was that he might use someone else to attack her just as he’d done at the market. Hence why her coven had given protective talismans to the guards. Still, it meant that Wynter had to treat anyone else as a possible attacker; she had to watch them closely and be ready for them to pounce. It was tiring.
Anabel cocked her head. “What’s with the church bells?” She straightened in her seat, her eyes widening. “Shit, do you think they’re supposed to be some kind of alarm? Oh my God, the Aeons must be here.”
Delilah sighed, her eyelid twitching. “You’re hearing things again, potion-test dummy. And there is no church around here.”
Anabel blinked. “Oh yeah, I forgot that.” She went back to her soup.
“You know, I figured the Aeons would have attacked by now,” said Xavier before taking another bite out of his sandwich. “Actually, I also figured that Saul would have made a move by now.”
“I heard he was in pretty bad shape after his time at Azazel’s dungeon.” Anabel took a swig of her soda. “He’d need to take a few days to heal and rest up, right? Maybe that’s why he’s lying low.”
