Page 113 of The Midnight Order
It’s a misty morning. The weather is changing, and the dew seems to hang on a little longer after the sun rises lately. Any other day, I’d breathe this weather deeply and relish the idea of getting the hell away from this place, but today isn’t like that.
Leaving Silver asleep next to Lowell felt wrong. It felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind. It’s illogical, and I can’t allow feelings to breed for the woman I know will soon be a memory.
We cohabited with Soliel for years after Lowell announced he couldn’t proceed with her testing, even though he adored her.
Thinking of keeping the vivacious Silver hidden away to rot in Blackmoore, as Soliel did, however, makes my stomach turn sour; the smoothie of O Negative, mixed with pomegranate juice before I left, churning as I grab my briefcase and head for the jet.
My bags will be loaded before we leave, which will give me time to have a couple of stiff drinks before takeoff.
Even as old as I am, I can’t get behind the idea of flying through the sky at what feels like thousands of miles an hour.
“Sire,” the pilot says, bowing his head in servitude as I approach.
“As you were. Pre-flight checks are all good?”
“Yes, sir. Everything is ready to go when you are.”
I swallow. “Give me a few before taking off, yeah?”
As if he can sense my nerves, he grins. “Not a fan of flying, huh?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“I’ll give you time to get comfortable before we leave. But if we want to stay on schedule, we’d better get a move on.”
His hurrying me doesn’t bother me since it’s in my best interest, so I make my way into the private liner and find the first drink I can get my hands on and down it.
The bourbon burns down my throat, and I close my eyes against its fingers that knead away any of the fear laced within my undead flesh.
By the third drink, I grow worried we won’t remain on schedule because we haven’t lifted off.
Hell, they haven’t even shut and sealed the door yet.
I’m about to set my drink down and investigate when I hear a ruckus behind me and turn to find the damning eyes of Silver. Her arm gripped tightly in Tony’s hand, his disheveled uniform telling of the fight she gave poor Tony.
“We have a problem.” Tony flicks his eyes toward Silver, and she rolls her eyes.
“I’m hardly a problem.”
Part of me wants to laugh, but the saner portion of my brain knows that Lowell forbade her from coming on this trip, and therefore, he’ll be losing his fucking mind right about now.
I don’t want to be on the other end of that anger. I can’t afford to be.
“How did you get here?” I ask her.
When I left, she was in bed with Lowell, tucked beneath him like she always belonged there. It was sweet to see, if not disturbing.
“I’ve been here most of the night,” she says, eyeing Tony as she shrugs off his hold.
“Give us a moment,” I tell him, and he nods, giving Silver a backward glance filled with ire before scoffing and exiting the jet.
“You were with Lowell this morning.”
Her cheeks fill with blood, and her heart races.
“Who exactly was with Lowell?” I prod.
“A pillow.”
