Page 113 of At the Mercy of Midnight
Silas rolled his eyes. “The couch will be fine,” he said before adding, “thanks.”
“Sure,” Brinkley said. “Anyone for a cup of cinnamon tea? It’s rather lovely.”
“I think I’ll head to bed,” Amelia announced, pushing herself to stand while Silas stepped away, his hand slipping from her knee. “Finley, if we could have a word before you retire?”
Silas nodded, following her towards a narrow, dark passageway.
“See you in the morning Brink, sorry again to disturb you so late,” Amelia said quietly with a small wave.
Brinkley swallowed a sip of his tea, looking after them with that same curious look. “Never disturbing to see your gorgeous face. Sleep well. I’ll set the couch up before I head to bed.”
With a grateful nod, Silas followed Amelia up the passageway and into a darkened, quiet room. It was just as she remembered it. A small but comfortable space, with a sloped ceiling and a single window that overlooked the trees surrounding the outskirts of East Town. A worn wooden dresser stood against the far wall, a few unlit candles scattered across itssurface, wax pooling at their base. The bed was small but soft, and the same faded quilt she had used all those years ago still covered it.
She sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed to peel off her boots. Silas leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room as if trying to picture her younger self here, hiding away from the world.
“So,” he said at last, voice quiet, “you’ve stayed here before?”
Amelia glanced up. “For a while. Brinkley was good to me when I had nowhere else to go and had no one I could trust.”
Silas nodded, and though he didn’t say it, she could see the unspoken thought in his expression.I wish I had known you then.
She swallowed, suddenly too tired to unpack that. Instead, she shifted on the bed, patting the space beside her. “Sit. You’re making the room feel smaller by looming.”
He laughed softly but obeyed, dropping onto the mattress beside her. For a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the quiet crackle of the fire reaching them from down the hall.
Then, Silas exhaled. “Midnight’s coming.”
Amelia closed her eyes for a beat. “I know. It always does.”
She didn’t need to say how exhausted she was, how much she wished to lay back and close her eyes, find the oblivion of sleep. Her heart still pounded from their escape, from the violent reminder of how much danger they were in.
She looked at him in the dim light. His face was shadowed, features drawn. “We should talk about what happened.”
Silas gave a humourless chuckle. “Which part?”
“All of it,” she said. “Those weird people in the Sanctum. Demetrius. Your mother.”
On the way to Brinkley’s cottage, Silas had told her what he had learnt from the moment he had been taken in Ivory City. At the mention of his mother, Silas’ jaw tightened. He ran a hand through his hair, the movement slow, weary. “She thinks she’s doing the right thing.”
Amelia considered him, noting the way his fingers curled in his lap. “That doesn’t mean her actions are okay, that they don’t…hurt.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and when he looked at her, his eyes were dark with something unreadable. “I know.”
Amelia hesitated, then shifted to face him. “Finley, they weren’t just keeping you prisoner. I heard them call you a ‘vessel’.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “I know.”
“They were going to sacrifice you!” Her words shook, the seriousness truly hitting home for the position they were in. The elements of the unknown were haunting.
“Iknow.” His voice was sharp now, the words laced with frustration. He rubbed a hand over his face. “You shouldn’t have come for me. You put yourself in so much danger.”
Her brows creased. “What do you mean? I wasn’t just going to let them take you.”
His hand dropped away, meeting her gaze, something flickering in his expression. “It means they don’t wantyou. They only wanted me…you could—” He cut himself off and shook his head, eyes falling shut. “—You could get out of all this. This could be over for you.”
She gave him a flat look. “You’re kidding, right?”
Silas scoffed, shaking his head. “Kidding is my default setting, but not this time, Winslow.”
