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A smirk formed on my lips as I glanced toward him. “Don’t tell me, Vincent, the leader of Onuna and The Hand, suddenly has fucking cold feet.”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“You’re godsdamn right, you don’t. You work for us. That’s it. Don’t ask me questions about the so-called family you are betraying. It’s none of your concern.” I slapped his arm twice and smiled.
Vincent remained quiet, watching the show below.
“That’s what I thought. We both know that once those realms open, you are going to wish you never aligned yourself with Samkiel.”
Vincent nodded and stepped back, straightening his jacket. “I’ll make sure they are separated.”
“Good.”
The music rose, and I turned back toward the orchestra, the dismissal clear. I heard him take a few steps and then stop.
“He is with her, you know? Fully. It didn’t separate them. If anything, it made them stronger.”
I felt the banister under my hands creak, the wood chipping beneath my claws.
“If they complete the third act and seal the bond, she will—”
“Leave, Vincent, before I do something that even I will regret,” I growled, feeling Roccurem shift beside me.
Vincent nodded and left the balcony area. I faced Roccurem, willing myself not to rip him to pieces and ruin everything we had built and worked for. Jealousy, hot, blinding, and violent, ripped through me.
“Did you know? You said turning her would prevent that. Killing her fraudulent sister was to prevent that. Do you have any fucking idea—”
“The mark is not on her finger. You overreact like a child would.” His eyes popped open, all six of them. “I have seen a multitude of possibilities, their bonding being the least likely. The time shall still pass.”
I growled, fangs erupting from my gums. “If The Order cannot—”
“The Order will have what they wished for,” Roccurem interjected. “What you all wished for. The death of Samkiel.”
I released the banister, small shards of wood falling onto the crowd below. The music reached its crescendo and fell, dropping the room into silence for a brief moment before the crowd below stood and applause rained. The woman bowed deeply as the curtains drew to a close.
Eighty-One
Dianna
I rolled over and reached out, only to find the bed empty. I frowned and sat up. “Sami?” I called, but there was no answer.
I tossed the covers off and stood to pad across the floor. Had he left for the Higher One already and not said goodbye?
“Sami?” I called again, grabbing a robe and tying it around myself. I skipped down the stairs and headed into the living room, but it was quiet. I checked the kitchen and the room he used as a small office. Nothing. I wrapped my arms around myself and walked back into the living room, freezing when I saw the pictures on the mantle vibrating.
I walked closer, seeing that they weren’t just vibrating. They were melting. I took a step back, bumping into someone behind me. The room melted away.
I sidestepped and spun around. Gabby looked at me, paint splashed across her shirt.
I was back at the house where Gabby and I had lived. Only this time, it was a complete and utter disaster. The furniture was destroyed and in pieces, frames on the floor, shards of glass everywhere. It looked as if a tornado had ripped through the house.
I swallowed and asked her, “What are you doing?”
“Fixing the cracks. We’re broken.”
“What?”
She ignored me, humming as she slid her brush over a large crack in the wall. Cracks spread across every wall. Unease quivered through me.
