I dash to the window and welcome the creature, a black crow with some parchment wrapped around its stick-like leg. As I stroke his feathers, I unwind the message and toss it into the air, waiting for the message to unravel.
Words appear in the air.
All is going well. Hold down the fort.
The parchment burns green and then turns to dust, the dust itself dissolving in the air. After thanking the crow for his message, I whisper for him to head to the aviary. No use sending him back to Quinn. My brother will return triumphant soon.
I hope.
Though perhaps I should inquire to my brother’s relationship and how it developed. How did he feel? Was it much the same as mine?
Is the pull still strong?
It’s thoughts like these that make me want to stake myself. Even at this age, the old trick would work, and I’d no longer need to suffer the weight of eternity, of questions that seem to stretch on forever into the cold, dark wasteland it has become.
I sweep my hand lovingly over the spines of the books piled on my worktable.But then who would do all of this?
“You sure know how to brood.”
The disembodied voice hardly surprises me. I knew the Historical Society would send someone to check on me eventually.
Drake’s presence is better than Morgana’s.
I keep my smile to myself as I pitch my voice at one of my oldest friends. “She wants to stick her fingers in everything, doesn’t she?”
“Morgana likes to be in control.”
The image of her naked body flashes in my mind. I chase it away with a couple of coughs. “Don’t remind me.”
“I love to reminisce about old orgies, Darius, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“You’re in charge of the supernatural sciences. I can’t imagine why else you would visit.”
I gesture to the spirits sitting partially touched on the table across the room. The library doesn’t usually house alcohol but tonight has been difficult.
To say the least.
Drake dashes to the cart, pours two whiskeys, and then chooses to walk toward me. He extends the glass. “I’ve received something from an anonymous source.”
“What?” I down the whiskey, letting it burn away the remaining desire I have for Amber. I don’t understand my longing for her.
I’ve had quite enough, haven’t I? I’ve pleased her. I’ve fucked her. She should be out of my system.
But all I feel is a scorching fury that she’s there—and at the same time, a burning rage that I can’t have her.
Drake sighs, sips his drink, and then sets the glass down. He pulls a phone from of the many pockets of his robes. He taps the screen.
When he holds up his phone, I’m not sure what I’m looking at. It’s a royal suite. I can tell that much. I can see fine china on the coffee table and gorgeous furniture. Two creatures go at it on the couch.
I start to speak until—
“Darius, yes. Harder…”
Amber’s suite. Just two hours ago.
I grab the phone. “Who sent this?”
“No clue, Darius. But this doesn’t look good.”