Myths and Mortals (Numina, #2)

by Charlie N. Holmberg

Rone scowled at his father and turned after her. “She’s one of them, isn’t she?” The Angelic’s voice was like hot, rank breath on the back of his neck. Rone turned around. Took in his father’s white-and-silver robes. “Go to hell.” He slammed the door behind

Kazen picked himself up off the stone, ignoring the dampness of his clothes. He brushed his tailored jacket with moist palms and held his head high, his plan stitching together at the forefront of his mind. Yes. First, he’d visit his accounts and withdraw the money he needed. Then the hunt would begin.

Sandis rushed toward her great-uncle, then stopped when she saw the table the smocked men had jumped from like flies from feces. The blood. The body. The hair. She lay prone on the table, her back cut open like a pig’s, her spine glistening. Bile burned Sandis’s throat. Her heart crumbled like the end of a lit cigar, and the ache of it radiated like a star. They’d already harvested her. Kaili was dead.