Desperation.
Loss.
Dylan walks away to open the door and I know one thing for sure. He thinks that’s the last time he’ll get to do that. I fear deep down that he may be right.
*
I stand in the lobby of the apartment building and wait for the elevator to arrive. The doorman let me in, my name on a list of approved visitors. I’m not sure if it was added from before, when Anita and I were critique partners, or today. Today seems unlikely as Xavier just died and why would his sister be thinking about names and visitors and such.
I press my damp hands against my skirt and try to quell my nerves.
Xavier is dead.
I killed him.
He’s dead.
The Morrigan slipped. I slipped.
“Excuse me,” I hear a familiar voice. My stomach turns from nervous to something more unpleasant. “Ah, Morgan. I see you got my message.”
“Good evening, Professor Christensen.” I offer a polite smile. I haven’t seen him face to face since he’d made me angry in his office a few weeks before. “I was devastated to hear the news. I barely knew Xavier but he seemed like a nice person.”
The words taste bitter coming off my tongue. I really am no better than the Morrigan. I lie and betray. She’s becoming part of me and I hate it. I stare at the elevator door as we rise to the top floor, the penthouse, and pray I get through the next few moments.
“How is your writing coming along?” the professor asks.
I glance over at his expectant expression. “Honestly, I haven’t gotten much done.”
“Oh.” The disappointment is clear. “I hope you don’t find yourself off deadline.”
“It will be fine. Just a little stress right now.” I look down the hallway as the doors slide open.
“Too much distraction at home?”
“No,” I snap. “With all due respect, Dr. Christensen, why are you so worried about my living situation?”
He pauses outside the large, wooden, front door. “I worry about all of my students. You’ve won a coveted spot in our program. It’s my obligation to the university to make sure it doesn’t go to waste.”
“So you keep track of the others the same way? Ask the male students about their roommates? Fish around for personal information?” I feel on the edge of a breakdown. I rub my eyes. “This isn’t the right place. If you have concerns about my progress I can make an appointment at your office.”
I press the buzzer. Before it opens I feel warm breath on my ear. “You should know from your story that not everything is as it seems. Our friends are not always our allies and our allies are not always our friends. Be careful where you tread.”
The door opens before I can reply but I spare a glance back at Christensen who is staring at the person greeting us, as though he didn’t just make a threat. I’m ushered quickly into the apartment and separated from the professor into a mingling crowd of mourners. Anita sits in the middle, red-eyed and pale. The guilt, along with every other emotion from the day, overwhelms me and I spin on my heel. I look for a room, any room, where I can take a breath.
The hallway is crowded. The kitchen packed. There’s a door off the hallway and I slip into it. I find myself in a small office or study. What I do see is a small array of liquor bottles on top of a cabinet and quickly pour myself a drink.
“Get your shit together, Morgan,” I mutter, taking a gulp of the fiery amber.
My nerves settle just a bit and I’m fully aware of my problem. It’s been over twenty-four hours and a major altercation since I’ve last been intimate with one of the guardians. I’m in a weakened state. My mind is a mess thinking about which man to choose for a mate. Tomorrow.
I take another gulp.
Something else is bothering me. It’s more of a feeling than a fact. Something happened when I went in that portal—and it wasn’t all bad. I have a flicker of interest—that same sense of intrigue that I write about in my book. There’s a draw to the Darkness and I’m not convinced it’s just the Morrigan pulling me. I think it may be me pushing me.
The thought is chilling.
And exciting.