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“They can be confused about it all without staring at you,” said Anabel.
“Forget about them, they’re not important.”
“Of course they’re not. But they’re still annoying.” Anabel adjusted the position of the basket she was holding. “I’ll meet you at the checkout counter. Be fast.”
They parted ways and headed down separate aisles. Humming, Wynter chucked one item after another into her basket, mentally crossing them off the list. She also added a few things for herself.
Reaching the wall of built-in coolers, she pulled open the refrigerator door. Cold air danced over her skin. She grabbed an energy drink and then closed the door.
Her heart jumped as she saw a man’s reflection in the glass, smirking. Saul. She spun . . . but there was no one there. Or it didn’t seem as though there was. She swiped out her arm but connected with nothing but air.
Hearing him laugh, she whirled back to face the refrigerator just in time to see his chuckling reflection fade away.
What in the rickety fuck?
Again, she slashed her arm through the air. Again, her fingers touched nothing solid.
He was definitely not physically here. Kali would have warned her if he was, just as She did when any threats were nearby—the deity was helpful that way. Wynter hadn’t merely imagined seeing Saul’s reflection, though. Only . . . it couldn’t have truly been a reflection if he wasn’t actually there, could it?
Not knowing what to make of the weird little incident, she made a mental note to discuss it with Cain. He’d surely have answers.
Wynter quickly grabbed the last few items on her list and then made a beeline for the checkout counter, where Anabel waited. Not wanting to spook the already on-edge blonde, Wynter said nothing about the Saul thingy as they bagged and paid for their stuff.
“Everything okay?” Anabel asked her as they walked to the exit. “You seem . . . tense.”
“I’m fine.” Wynter took two steps outside. An otherworldly breeze raced over her, humming with warning. Before she had a moment to react, a mini whirlwind built around her. A whirlwind in which Saul stood. Fuck it all.
A net of fire engulfed her before she had the chance to strike—a net so weirdly heavy it knocked her on her ass. Her insides rolled, the wind died down, and she realized that she was no longer at the plaza. No, she was in the woods on the outskirts of the town. She was also still caught up in the net, and freaking Saul still stood in front of her.
The net was uncomfortably hot and tight. Worse, it seemed to be stopping her from using her magick, because her efforts to destroy it were having zero effect.
Wonderful. Just wonderful.
Wynter’s monster slunk to the surface, not a fan of the Aeons at the best of times. Right now, it was eager to take control and end the bastard in front of them. It wasn’t alone in that.
Eying the flickering ball of red power in Saul’s hand, Wynter urged her monster to wait. She was difficult to kill, true, but his kind might just manage to accomplish it.
“At last, we are alone,” said Saul, a smug glint in his pale-blue gaze.
The dude didn’t look good. Not at all. There were dark smudges beneath his eyes. His face was pallid and gaunt. His dark-blond hair was dull and unkempt. It didn’t look like he’d shaved in a while. And his clothes were dirty and wrinkled, as if he hadn’t changed in days.
“I do not believe we have ever had a conversation before now, have we?” he asked.
She’d seen him a few times at Aeon over the years but, no, they hadn’t once spoken. “You never seemed to show any interest in mortals.” As if, to him, they were beneath his notice. Many Aeons appeared to feel that way.
“You are all fairly boring, really. Easy to read. Easy to predict.” He paused. “Even easier to kill.”
“Not all of us.”
“If you think I would struggle to snuff out your life, you are very much mistaken.”
Maybe. “I thought that you Aeons don’t want me dead. I can’t otherwise lift the curse I placed on your land, can I?”
“I no longer care about the curse. The land can perish for all I care. But I will avenge my sister’s death.” The sheer wrath in his voice seemed to scrape at her skin.
She hadn’t expected him to declare an intention to kill her, all things considered, but maybe she should have. A highly vengeful creature herself, Wynter could understand how such a dark craving for justice could hound a person even to a point where they would commit an act that turned their own people against them.
“Even if you do manage to kill me,” she began, “it won’t be something you get away with. Deities don’t take it too well when someone targets their Favored.”
