Page 92 of Right Hand Of The Reaper
Huh. I wondered if that was the same thing as what Atticus had seen and felt.
“Someone else has delved in there, haven’t they?” Prometheus asked, his eyebrow quirked. “What did they find?”
“Nothing,” I replied. “They found the wall too, tried to push through it and ended up unconscious.”
He rested his chin on his hand, his arm along the back of the sofa, looking relaxed. “Fascinating.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” He nodded eagerly. “You remind me of someone but I can’t quite put my finger on who.”
“Nyx,” I said.
His head tipped to the side and his eyes roamed my face. “Yes. Why didn’t I see it before?”
“Some sort of spell.”
“It would have to be a powerful one. To make everyone who knew her forget what she looks like.”
“Yes, but we don’t know how or why it was done. And we don’t know how I fit into all this.” It was only then that I realised I was on my own. “Where are the others?”
Prometheus smiled again, but this one was full of mischief. He stood and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
I took his hand and he helped me to my feet. I was a little unsteady on them for a moment, but his sure grip kept me upright. Once I was steady, he let go of my hand and walked to a wall of TV monitors all displaying different areas of the building. The dance floor, the back offices, Glen still passed out on the floor.
“Sorry about your troll.”
Prometheus shrugged. “He’ll get over it. He doesn’t hold grudge.”
“That’s surprising.” Trolls were renowned for not just holding grudges, but nurturing them until they turned into festering pools of hate.
“He’s only part troll. His mum was human so he inherited some of her traits. Makes him a better troll, in my opinion.”
My eyes drew to the screen where the guys were. They were still in the staff room, but they weren’t arguing. In fact, they looked like they were in a determined debate.
“They seem very dedicated to finding you,” Prometheus remarked, his eyes glued to the screen. “I wonder what it is that draws them to you? What inspires such dedication?”
I watched the five of them, huddled with their heads together. Magnus sat between the twins, their arms and legs touching, and Thane had Atticus sat on the floor between his legs. The simple connection I could see between them all had my heart warming just a little more.
“Love.”
“What?” Prometheus asked as he turned to face me.
“The answer to your question. It’s love.”
He turned back to the screen, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a weariness that had his shoulders curving towards the floor. “Why are you here Roux?”
“Don’t you already know?”
“Yes,” he said with a soft smile. “But it’s nice to hear the words.”
“We need to get into the vault.”
He faced me again, those mercurial eyes fixing me with a hard stare. “I know I won’t be able to change your mind, but I’m going to say it anyway. The likelihood of you coming out alive is low. Unbelievably low. I’m asking you not to go.”
“I have to. I need to know how I’m connected to Nyx, what happened to the Diadem and why creatures are going missing.”
“And you think the answer is in the vault?”
