Page 14 of Reverie

“C’mon, Brigham.” Luna sighs as if she’s over the drama in front of her. Then, in three quick steps, she’s in front of me, pulling me by the armpit.

“Here you go,” she adds.

“The fuck?” I mutter as she drags me away.

She sighs again and anger flashes in her eyes. “Listen, we can do this the simple way, or we can do this the way that causes you to lose a few ounces of blood.”

She looks me up and down.

“Well, hopefully only a few ounces. You never know,” Luna says.

She’s deceptively strong because it seems as if it costs her nothing to pull me alongside her and down the corridor.

We move back through the mansion for several minutes before she happens upon a door that looks just like the one we used to enter Misha’s office hours ago.

It’s hard to believe that it’s been a matter of hours, not days, since Leo and I left Amelia Manor with every intention of returning to ournormallives there.

She ushers me into the room, releasing her grip on my upper arm.

“So!” she says, clapping her hands once and spinning around to face me where I stand near the entrance. “Sit down for a spell.”

I bite back the grunt I want to emit from escaping my throat. “Any way I can convince you to take me back to Winter?”

She rolls her eyes. “Winter is fine. She’ll be all right without you for a few minutes. Plus, before you go in there, I need you to chill out.”

“Chill?” Is she out of her mind?

“Yes. In case you haven’t clocked it, there’s a helluva lot going on. Ya know, since a whole bunch of people just died on your front step?” She sits on a plush leather loveseat, kicking her legs out to set them on the low glass coffee table in front of her. “I don’t need any infighting going on right now. So yes, you need to sit ya’ ass down and chill.”

I blink at her.

This office is smaller—not the same size as the one Misha’d taken us to. There are touches of feminine accents around, and I realize this is Luna’s sanctum.

“Sit,” she says, nodding to the chair across from her. I do what she tells me and plop into the leather seat. It takes everything within me to resist telling her to fuck off.

“How do you know how Winter is doing?” It’s been all of ten minutes since I last saw her, and it feels ten minutes too long.

She points at her smartwatch. “I got a text from Dr. Whitney with her status.”

“Who the fuck is Dr. Whitney?” I look from left to right, expecting something to stick out in the unsettling normalcy.

Everything you know is a lie.

Luna gives me an annoyed look. “Dr. Whitney is adoctor.A physician. A medical provider.” She sighs shortly. “Listen, Hunter. I promise I’ll take you to your woman in a few minutes. But you look like a deer in headlights with a lethal bent to ya, so I want you to at least have a baseline of what’s going on.”

She raises her eyebrow again, as if daring me to contradict her.

“Fine,” I say, my voice hoarse.

“Great!” She cracks the knuckles on her right hand with her thumb. “So surprise number one, your mother isn’t dead.”

“So that’s not a clone hanging out in your foyer then?”

Luna chuffs.

“No, Hunter. That’s Amelia Brigham in the flesh.”

I grind my teeth as the image of her blemished skin materializes in my consciousness. “Right,” I reply.