Page 72 of Forging Darkness
After an hour, we’re both frustrated, but Thorne is a tad better at hiding it than I am.
“I think I’m done.” Done with dinner. Done with this fruitless game.
Releasing a sigh, Thorne pushes to his feet and extends a hand down to help me up. I accept the help and for the moment it takes me to stretch to my full height, the warmth of his hand heats my numb fingers. I slip my hand free, and we head back the way we came. Neither of us speaks until I’m back in my gilded cage and Thorne’s hand is on the door, about to shut it and lock me in.
He offers me a sad smile. “I’ll make sure you have some more variety in your wardrobe, starting tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” The word is lifeless, but he accepts it with a nod.
“Make sure to get rest tonight,” he says, “for tomorrow, we battle.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Steel
“I’m really not sure this is the best idea.” Greyson voices his opinion for the seventh time as he hovers over my shoulder.
I heard him and responded the first six times, so I ignore him now, studying the topography on the map in front of me. I trace the southeast edge of Quebec with my finger, skimming over seven hundred miles of land in mere moments, trying to commit it to memory. It’s going to take a considerable amount of time to scan the area from the air, but what else can I do? Sterling is the computer genius. Greyson is the family diplomat—if anyone will be able to lobby for more help, it’s going to be him. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.
I woke up this morning with Emberly’s strawberries-and-cream scent lingering in the air. I would have preferred a few seconds to savor the dream, but my brothers were standing over me sporting matching looks of anxiety. They’d had time to convene with the girls before waiting vigil at my bedside. It took no time at all to verify they’d all experienced the same thing.
“Mom and Dad are working on getting a battalion together to search the area. Striking out on your own could be suicide.”
“I won’t be on my own. Tinkle is coming with me.”
Greyson crosses his arms over his chest. “That hardly makes me feel better.”
I don’t disagree, but I’m not going to voice my agreement. Instead I grunt noncommittally.
We did the responsible thing and told my parents about the dream, then relayed the details to Sable and Deacon. They picked up the baton and ran with it, alerting the proper channels all the way up to the Council of Elders.
I’m glad to hear they’re rallying the troops, but it isn’t enough. Not for me. A full twelve hours has passed since we dreamscaped with Emberly. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I can’t help but think this other angel-born is filling her head with lies. I don’t like seeing sympathy in her eyes for someone who condones and orchestrates kidnappings and murders Nephilim.
I re-focus on the map in front of me, paying special attention to the Laurentian Mountains, the primary mountain range in Quebec. The range runs along the southeastern coast and dips into New York, hundreds of square miles of snow and ice to hide an evil mountain fortress of nightmares.
That’s where I’m focusing my search. It’s a large area, but I can cover it as an eagle.
Tinkle said he can sense Fallen or Forsaken, especially in large groups. I’m skeptical since he missed the horde of Forsaken at the club. I’m hoping it was an off day and that he’s back on his game. If all goes well, when we get close enough, he’ll be able to sniff the fortress out like a hound. At least that’s the idea.
It isn’t a great plan, but it’s all I have with the limited information we possess, so I’m going with it.
“We won’t be able to get a hold of you if you’re flying around in the spirit realm.”
“I’ll phase back every few hours and check my messages,” I reply, only half paying attention to Greyson. My mind is running over supplies I’ll be able to carry on my person and forecasts for the next several days. The weather this time of year couldn’t be worse. I’m going to have a few frozen days ahead of me.
“Steel!” Greyson slams his hands down on the map in front of me, slapping a palm over Montreal.
I fix him with an icy stare and lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest to let him know he has my attention, and my anger.
“What’s this really about, Grey?”
“It’s just—” He shoves a hand into his hair. Rake marks track through the mop, evidence he’s been plowing his hand through it all day. “We never should have left Seraph Academy.”
I lift my eyebrows. Not insulted, but surprised at the admission. “Agreed.”
“You shouldn’t have left either.”
A dark mood instantly rolls over me. Shoving out of the chair, I stride to my closet, set on gathering my things so I can get on my way. “That was my decision.”