Page 49 of The Curse of Eternity
“Ezra caught up to me much sooner than I had anticipated, and Maria was taken entirely unawares. She fought beside me while still reeling from the truth of the Domnitori.”
“That’s bad luck,” Winston commented, taking a long drag from what I assumed was a cigarette.
“Yes.” A pause, and then Drake’s tone turned somber. “I could not abandon her, either time. If I had, then my survival would become meaningless.”
“I know… You’ve felt that way for a long time. I’m glad the girl has given you back a sense of purpose.”
Drake scoffed. “A selfish endeavor, on my part. Keeping Maria safe is now all I hope to achieve after this mess of events.”
I rocked back from the stainless-steel basin, feeling warm despite the cool air trickling in. Glancing around the room, I glimpsed the sliding glass doors beside a round breakfast table on the other side of the bar-style counter.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Winston’s words faded to the background as I made my way through the kitchen, past the breakfast nook, and grasped the handle of the sliding glass door. It slid to my left, and I stepped out onto the wooden deck, only to immediately stop short.
A cat slinked inside, brushing against my ankles before seeming to realize that I’d only borrowed its owner’s clothes. The animal padded deeper into the house, and I closed the glass door behind me, my gaze affixed to the view beyond the deck’s pale wooden railings. Seeing it in person was so much different than through the windows.
Bright rays of sunshine filtered through sparse tree limbs, rising higher than any that grew back home. Pines interspersed the naked oaks, their dewy needles reflecting light. Hidden amidst the scenery, a bird’s song called out into the still morning. Everything felt slow, maybe because I’d barely slept for a day or more—when the hell had I gotten to that manor?
I didn’t even know what day it was, but I wouldn’t let the ugly memories of the last few days ruin the serenity creeping into my bones. A deep lungful of air expanded my chest, and I closed my eyes. The chill breeze brushed against the exposed skin on myface and hands, but holding the mug of coffee kept my fingertips warm.
Now that I was properly clothed for the northern springtime, the temperature wasn’t painful. Relief seeped in on my exhale, my eyes opened, and my gaze fell on Drake’s—his raven-dark eyes already staring into mine. Slowly, a smile curved up the corners of his deathly-pale lips, and I swallowed hard.
To keep my heart from speeding up any further, I turned my attention to where Winston was seated on a white lawn chair beside a glass-top table. A fanciful ashtray rested at the center, smoke curling upward from a forgotten cigarette still smoldering. Winston’s breath clouded the air, rising to disappear into the bright blue sky above, and he flicked off the excess ash on his half-smoked cigarette.
My nose wrinkled, but a flush climbed my throat when Winston slyly glanced between me and Drake.
“Tina seems to like you,” Winston said, nodding at the house behind me.
“I think she likes the smell of your clothes more than me.” I smiled, which felt strained, and then shook my head when Winston offered his pack of American Spirits. “I don’t smoke, just a caffeine addict.”
“Who isn’t?” Winston shrugged, his easy smile still brimming when he turned to Drake. “Speak of the devil, right?”
A sound of reproach rumbled in Drake’s throat as his eyes narrowed at Winston. In a placating motion, Winston raised his hands up to his temples, and his cigarette dangled precariously between his middle and forefinger. Clearly appeased, Drake’s expression brightened when he took a step closer to where I stood.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” I raised the mug to my lips, and smirked at Winston’s laugh, which Drake ignored.
“I can imagine…” Drake’s hand rose toward me a few inches, but stopped. His fingers curled into a fist while his lips pressed together. Since he seemed at a loss, and I didn’t feel like being pitied, I let it all out.
“All I want to do right now is call my family. To tell them that I’m alive, if nothing else. Which I’m pretty sure is the only thing Icantell them because if I explained that our enemies are a lot more organized than we thought—with their own personal enslaved army of previously-thought-to-be-extinct werewolves and untold stolen wealth—then their first instinct would be to track me down and launch an assault on that manor.
“Except, I can’t let them do that, can I? Because then they’d all die.” My hands trembled, and I tightened my grip on the mug. Jaw unclenching, I said, “I know you want to run off and play martyr, get yourself killed to give me time to get away, but I’m just as embroiled in this fucking mess as you are. Hell, the underwear I spent three days wearing—in avan—is still back at that manor. I’m as susceptible of being scried for across the continent as you are.
“Besides—” I took a breath, vindicated by Drake’s blank expression, his black eyebrows high, and Winston’s companionable silence. “If you tried to go back to that awful manor of horrors, even if you do it while I’m sleeping, then I swear I’m going to follow you back there just to pullyourass out this time. And Ireallydon’t want to do that.”
Finally out of steam, I settled back on my right foot, accidentally having shifted into a defensive stance, and glanced between the two men. Winston inhaled a long drag, and when he came up for air, he looked at Drake.
“I told you I liked her.”
Drake glanced at Winston, but his attention quickly returned to me. “I have no intention of returning to the regional Cneaz.” It didn’t sound like he was lying, and I relaxed.
“Yeah, you’ve got too much to live for now,” Winston muttered, soon hiding behind his own mug of cream-filled coffee. Olivia would have approved of that milk-to-brew ratio.
Before Winston emerged from his swig, Drake’s form blurred until he stood directly beside Winston’s lit cigarette. Almost too fast to register, his forefinger and thumb pinched the burnt end until it went out. He rubbed the black ash between his fingers, the digits stretched tight across the phalanges under direct sunlight, making his short nails seem longer, thinner.
Winston groaned, sneering up at Drake’s unapologetic pettiness. I bit my lip to hide a smile. It felt too much like how Uncle Alaric often reacted whenever my cousins managed to get on their father’s nerves. While Drake was far from my jokester uncle, the domestic to-and-fro brought on a nostalgic smile, but it faded fast.Would I ever get to see my family again?
While Winston was forced to keep his mouth closed in order to relight his cigarette, the corners of Drake’s lips twitched upward as he took advantage of the sudden silence.
