The Death Dealer (SENTINELS OF MAGIC #2) by T.M. Cromer EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: T.M. Cromer
- Language: English
- Genre: Fantasy
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- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
PRESENT DAY
Trevor Blane observed Soleil Stephens puttering about in her
greenhouse from his spot beneath the tall pines, thirty yards away.
“Earth witches,” he muttered.
How provincial they all were!
This one was no different.
She was toiling away at her workbench, scooping dirt into a pot as she
planted yet another seedling. How ridiculous to use her hands and waste
hours when a simple snap of her fingers would do. Watching her spend time
with her plants was like watching grass grow—boring and a complete waste
of his time.
She cooked like a five-star Michelin chef, though. Her cherry pie
brought a smile to his lips whenever he thought about it. Four months ago,
when they were all cloistered at the Aether’s England estate, she and her
hotter-than-hell sister Taryn made sure none of those present went hungry.
Trevor still dreamed about that goddamned flaky pie crust.
“I suppose she has that going for her,” he said aloud.
On the short side, Soleil possessed a full hourglass figure. Her hair was
the color of the richest, darkest soil and bundled in a topknot that forever
listed to one side. Stray tendrils escaped from the thick bun and curled
along the nape of a graceful neck. Longer, non-strategically placed strands
framed her rounded, flushed face. Like any witch, she had the ability to
glamour and make herself perfect, but apparently, she preferred the form
she was born with.
If Trev were being objective, he’d say she was attractive, but he
preferred taller, sleeker women like Soleil’s ethereal older sister, Vivian. Of
course, as the wife of the Aether, she was off-limits to any man who wanted
to take another breath. Damian Dethridge would smite anyone who
considered hooking up with his beloved mate. And Trev had no desire to
feel the pain of that sonofabitch’s fury. Been there, done that.
None of his musings mattered. He was here for a job. A shitty, tedious
job, but a job all the same.
When Soleil wiped her brow with her sleeve, leaving behind a smear of
dirt, he cringed. Barely suppressing the desire to teleport in and scrub her
face clean, he sighed his irritation. He should abandon his post. The woman
rarely left her property unless she went to her nonsensical potion store, The
Elemental Shop, to sell unsuspecting mortals her useless witchy wares. It
wasn’t like he needed to be here, right?
Why Trev had to stick to a timeline for this particular Death Dealer
mission was a mystery. If he was going to eventually be tasked with taking
her life, he might as well get it over with. He doubted he’d alter Fate’s
design by killing her early. The woman didn’t appear to contribute to
society in any worthwhile way.
A mouthwatering memory of cherry pie teased his brain.
Okay, maybe her baked delicacies were the exception. For another slice,
he’d tell the Authority to go fuck themselves and protect her until his own
dying day. Those delicious creations had transported him back to when his
mother used to make him the best apple desserts known to man. Goddess,
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