Page 35 of The Midnight Order
“But my aunt…”
“She was not the key, but Lowell grew fond of her company. Hell, so did I. She was an extraordinary woman, so we allowed her to remain. With her memories.”
So, they can take memories.
One point for the uneducated on the supernatural.
“But I thought that you all—” I stop, not wanting to offend him and not knowing what words to use.
“That we what?”
“That you killed her.”
“Absolutely not. We’ve been looking into her death, and when we find out who did it, they’ll be dealt with; I can assure you.”
I remind myself that he speaks as if he’s… Well; heisfrom another time.
“You loved her,” I whisper, seeing the sentiment in his dark red eyes.
“We did. Well, two of us.”
“Won’t that be weird? For you, I mean, if I am the key. Being that you loved my great aunt?”
His features turn sad. “We’ve seen a lot come and go. We watched so many we loved age and pass on. No, I don’t think it’ll be weird. If anything, it’ll be like a piece of her lives on. For a time.”
He adds the last part, and his tone grows dark.
He’s reminding himself that I, too, will eventually pass on.
“So, if I’m the key to the curse and break it, I can then go back to my life?”
He laughs a bit absurdly. “Would you want to?”
“Well, to be able to answer that, I’ll need more information on the curse and how to break it,” I toss back.
Corvin bursts into the room with a chart, looking between us in surprise. “Hey, can I see you in my office?” he tells Jasper.
“Of course. Silver,” he nods, “it was a pleasure.”
The buff one of them, covered in tattoos, walks in wearing only sweatpants. “Don’t worry, I’ll monitor her.”
God, please don’t leave me with him.
I plead with Corvin with a fear in my eyes, but he turns to the man, leaning in to whisper something in his ear before following Jasper into the hall.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not that scary.”
Corvin returnedand allowed me to eat and shower before returning me to the cuffs on the bed, but this time, he left me with a television, at least.
I never slow down long enough to watch anything on TV.
There’s a marathon of some show calledYellowstone, and it’s completely sucked me in. So much so that when the door opens,and the scary one of them walks in, covered in tattoos with a grim expression plastered on his face, I forget I’m even a hostage—or possibly in grave danger in his presence.
“Come back during the commercials,” I tell him absently, watching Rip on the show lay into Beth for acting out of hand at the bar.
“You’re enjoying captivity a bit too much,” he says, his hands tugging to his hips.
The show breaks for a commercial, and I turn my gaze on him, shifting on the bed sleepily.
