Page 97 of Touched

The silence that follows is heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and shared anxieties. None of us have mentioned the FaeDorcha or the athraigh flowers.

How many humans have they already turned for their army?

What about Fae or Gifted?

Where would they hide them?

I find it hard to believe that the queen and the Elders know nothing of this.

If they do know… that means they have kept it from us.

Deliberately.

After a moment, Cyrus stands up. "I'll make some tea. It might help settle our nerves." His attempt to bring some normalcy to the situation is both endearing and heartbreaking.

As he disappears into the kitchen, I find myself staring into the cold hearth.

Devyn stirs beside me, breaking the stillness of the room. I watch, almost mesmerized, as she rises gracefully and glides toward the kitchen, likely to assist Cyrus. There's an ethereal quality to her beauty, a certain luminescence that seems to set her apart from those around her. Her presence alone brings a sense of trust and comfort, like a calm port in a stormy sea.

As a warrior, Devyn has more than proven her mettle. Her role in the recent skirmish with the Trahan brothers was nothing short of impressive. Yet, despite her obvious virtues, something about her unsettles me. Perhaps it's the way she seems inexplicably drawn to Cyrus, or maybe it's the attention he gives her in return. I've never seen him look at another Fae the way he does Devyn.

The undercurrent is subtle between them. A lingering glance, a softening of his voice. To an outsider, it might seem inconsequential, but to me, it's glaring. I can't help but feel a twinge of something akin to jealousy, though I'm not quite sure why. It's not like she’s a threat to my relationship with Cyrus or the deep friendship we share as siblings. Still, this unbidden emotion gnaws at me, adding a layer of complexity to my already tumultuous feelings.

Sighing softly, I shift my focus back to cold fireplace. I long for flames to dance with a perfect mix of light and shadow. To distract me.

I strive to anchor myself in the present, to the here and now, away from the worry clouding my mind.

Outside, the whispering winds weaving through the ancient trees and the murmurs of the bayou merge. Their song a natural lullaby that drifts through the walls of the cabin. Closing my eyes for a moment, I allow the rhythmic melody to wash over me, seeking solace in its timeless tune. It's a momentary respite, an attempt to cleanse the growing unease that Callum's absence has planted in my heart.

Dammit, Callum! Where are you?

* * *

The fluorescent lights of the coroner's office cast a sterile glow over the room as I follow Lieutenant Antoine inside. He barely spoke to me on the way over.

Who could blame him?

I haven’t been myself lately. Not since Aeris.

Focus, dammit!

I give myself a mental shake. The last thing I need is to bring more heat down on my head. I’m in enough hot fucking water with him as it is.

I shiver as the chill of the stark room prickles my skin. It’s a vast contrast to the hot-as-hell humid night outside. I get they have to keep it colder than mere air-conditioned rooms, but, fuck, is it cold. I resist rubbing heat back into my bare limbs.

A weight hangs heavily on my shoulders as my thoughts drift back to the night’s events. I barely stop myself from shaking my head. New Orleans has become considerably more dangerous than even I could have ever imagined.

Moredangerous than I could ever have imagined…

This is fucking wild.

"I need you to focus, Detective LeBlanc," Detective Martinez says, her curt voice slicing through the fog of my wayward thoughts as her dark eyes lock on me. "We've got a lot to cover, and not a lot of time." There's an edge to her tone. One that's earned her a hard-ass reputation in Homicide. It's like she's constantly proving herself, every case a battle in a never-ending war.

Fuck!

Giving her a curt nod, I shift into the professional mode. It’s become second-nature to me. The fluorescent lights of the coroner's office cast stark shadows across Martinez's determined face, highlighting her sharp, yet pretty features. She's a formidable presence, her dark eyes scanning the room with a hawk-like intensity.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Lieutenant's gaze fixed on me. I choose to ignore it. I’m already struggling to keep up with Martinez's rapid-fire briefing. Plus, balancing the urgent need to reach out to Aeris, to confirm she's safe and followed my instructions, is challenging enough without having to contend with his scrutinizing stare.

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