A photograph across the room catches my eye. I walk around the massive desk and pick up the frame. It’s of Xaiver and Anita. Probably around high school graduation, with their arms wrapped around one another. They look like fair-skinned porcelain
dolls.
On the shelf next to the photo I spot a small box. It’s made of dark, carved wood, the edges smoothed with age. The carving matches the one on my necklace and an eerie chill creeps up my neck. Curiosity gets the best of me and I open the box. To my surprise I recognize the contents. With two fingers I pluck the shiny ball out of the case. A shadow flits across the orb.
It’s a WishMaker.
What had Tran said? It shows you your truest desires. I peer into the ball and make out the faintest of figures. It could be my imagination but I think they’re waving at me.
A noise breaks my concentration and I slip the orb into my pocket. I flip the lid on the box and spin, realizing I’m no longer alone in the room. Anita stands with her back pressed to the door.
“What are you doing in my father’s office?” she asks in a quiet, accusatory voice.
“I just needed some air. I apologize if I shouldn’t be in here.” Something in her attitude shifts and her eyes narrow. Blame. Anger. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Xavier. I really liked him. It’s impossible to understand what happened. It was so fast.”
“Wasn’t it though?” she replies. Her voice is shaky. “He was fine when he walked out of the club that night.”
“I thought so too.”
“But when he came back he was angry. Embarrassed a little. The cellist from the concert approached him.” She tilts her head. “Do you know him?”
“Yes. He’s one of my roommates. I had no idea he was playing that night.”
She walks around the room and picks up the photo of her and her brother. The one next to the wooden box. The orb feels like a ten pound weight against my leg. “We were best friends, you know. We did almost everything together until he went to business school and I started writing more seriously.”
“I’m so sorry, Anita.”
She flashes me a sympathetic grin. “Don’t be sorry for me, Morgan. We’ve always known we would be the conduit. The beginning. Remember, the prince always dies right after the gate is open.”
“The prince?” My blood runs cold. “What are you talking about?”
She steps forward and there’s an instant warring in my mind and body. Alluring. That’s the word that continues to pop in my mind. Anita is alluring….just like, “The cat.”
“Yes?”
“You took me there on purpose. You just led the way, to the club, to your brother. You knew Clinton’s music would ignite something in me.” The ramifications rock me. “He was a sacrifice.”
“There always has to be a first one. And it’s always Xavier.” She bares her teeth. “Always.”
Anita reaches for me, grabbing my top. She’s strong, more than I would have suspected, and my back is pressed against the wall. Weakened from the events that led to this moment, my attempts to fight back are lame and useless. I’ve no idea what she’s doing or how to get out of her grip, and when her mouth crashes to mine I’m stunned. I’m confused. But most of all the Darkness rears up and I’m only one thing. Hungry.
Her lips are hot against mine. Softer than any other I’ve ever felt. Her hands grip around my waist and through the haze of desire, I realize she’s not just kissing me—she’s feeding—much like I do with the Guardians. Much like I did with Xavier.
I struggle to get away, biting down on her lip with my teeth. She hisses and I’ve drawn blood. I taste it on my tongue.
“You don’t get to do that,” I tell her, spitting on the floor.
“Don’t I?” she laughs. Oh god, she laughs. Long and hard, bent over and hysterical. “You’re nothing but a fool. A stupid, stupid fool that thinks she can fight fate and overpower a goddess. You’re a vessel, Morgan. A vessel. Nothing more.” She rests her hands on her hips. “It’s too late. The process has begun. There’s nothing you and your little minions can do to stop it. Dark will prevail and soon you’ll really have to decide which team you really want to be on.”
“I’ll never be on the side of evil.” But I’m hungry. So very hungry, and I know I need to get out of here before things get worse.
I push past her and she doesn’t try to stop me. Leaving the apartment is a blur but soon I’m down on the hot, busy street. I feel the shadow of wings pass over my head and the ache of loneliness in my chest.
The Morrigan is winning and there’s no doubt that I’ve allowed it to happen.
Chapter Fourteen
Morgan