by J. L. Weil
I gulped. I’d known it was only a matter of time before someone would expect me to answer for Estelle’s death. But, I hadn’t thought it would be in my bedroom. This room seemed to attract trouble. Tread cautiously. “What the hell are you doing in my room?” I spun out of his hold and glared. A roaring entered my ears.
His lazy smirk made me want to bitch-slap him. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He pinched his index finger and thumb together. “Well, maybe a little.”
My chin lifted. “You didn’t,” I assured. The truth was, he had scared the ever-loving crap out of me, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “How did you get in here?” The manor was a fortress nowadays. No one came or went without having a background check, including credit and blood type, the usual. It was nearly impossible to get inside. Yet…
He leaned on the wall, eyes trained on me in case I made any sudden movements, and lit a cigarette. “It wasn’t without its difficulties. You’re a hard woman to see. Long story short…I more or less let myself in.”
My pulse was all over the place. “How thoughtful of you.”
“More than what you’ve shown me. I would have expected to hear of Estelle’s untimely death from you. But I guess you lack the balls.”
The play of moonlight and shadow on the ground, the howl of the wind, and the hiss of the ocean all seemed ominous, like my current situation. “It wasn’t like that. Did you know she killed Rose?”
His expression didn’t change, and his lack of emotion gave me pause for concern. Crash took a drag on his cigarette and savored the nicotine before expelling the smoke into my room. It was going to smell like an ashtray in here for weeks. “I had a hunch, but she never came right out and admitted it.”
Inching backward, my legs hit the bed. “She did to me.”
“And then you ripped her soul out.”
My skin felt clammy and gross. “It didn’t happen quite like that, and I think you know it.” Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here chatting it up. “She wouldn’t stop. I had no other choice.”
“Survival of the fittest. Regardless of how much I might disagree with your choices, you’re the White Raven. My father, on the other hand, wants your head on a silver freaking platter. I’m supposed to deliver, or else.” He made a slashing motion with his hand across his throat.
Lovely. “Revenge is empty. It’s pointless. It won’t bring her back, Crash.”
“You’re right. But you could have. You have the power to restore a soul, but you let her die. You killed her.”
A thin tendril of sympathy went through me. “It’s true. I can restore a soul, but not always. Zander is dead if you haven’t heard. I wasn’t able to bring him back.” Not to mention I had bigger problems.
Crash scowled, a different expression than his constant amusement. “It doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“I wasn’t looking to make light of your loss,” I told him.
The end of his smoke burned in the dark, the color changing from orange to red. “Lucky for you, I’m not my father. I’m not looking for all-supreme power.”
I exhaled. “What are you looking for?”
“I haven’t decided. When I do decide, you’ll know.” With a flick of his wrist, he tossed his cigarette onto my floor. One shock turned into another as I watched him shift into a… I squinted. Was that a fly? With a buzz of his wings, he flew over the bed, circling my head, and out the balcony doors.
I sank onto the bed and my brain emptied. I felt adrift—floating—like someone had pulled the stopper on my reality and I was sucked down the drain into another world.
Staring out the doors into the starry night, I could only imagine what happened next. A war was coming, and there were those within my ranks who would gladly end my life. Time would tell who I could trust, who would stand beside me. Crash and his family were wildcards. I didn’t know what to make of Crash, not yet. But Zane would have plenty to say on the matter.
The shadows curtained both sun and moon. Too often in the wind, I heard my name called—a beckoning I couldn’t refuse. In a world of gray and white, I’d seen the dark.
And because I couldn’t hold it in another second, I gave in to the urge I’d had from the moment my eyes stumbled over Crash. I did was I was born to do, what I needed to do for my own sanity.
The banshee in me let go. I screamed. It wasn’t for anyone in particular, not a call for help, but a release of raw emotions. Pain. Anger. Loneliness. Confusion. Fear. They were all there inside, building until I could no longer hold them in.
It rang over the island, rippled over the sea, and rode with the wind.
Piper and Zane’s story concludes…
SOUL SYMMETRY
Coming in 2016
~*~*~*~
Stalk Me Online:
(I’m serious. I would love to hear from you.)
Website: http://www.jlweil.com
My blog: http://jlweil.blogspot.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/JLWeil
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/jenniferlweil
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5831854.J_L_Weil