Page 142 of Black Reign

Something warm and floral buried beneath my cologne.

Not one of Hannah's wedding arrangements.

Not the rose.

Something else.

She wore my jacket.

Or held it close enough to leave perfume behind.

I bring the collar nearer before I can stop myself.

Orange blossom.

Maybe.

Something Mediterranean.

Clean and soft.

I close my eyes for half a second.

Vesper stood here.

At my chair.

Drank from my glass.

Touched my clothes.

Maybe lifted the jacket around her shoulders.

Maybe—

No.

Don't invent things.

Drew is watching me.

His expression slowly transforms into obscene delight.

“You just smelled your jacket.”

“I was identifying a fragrance.”

“You inhaled that thing like it was oxygen.”

“I did not.”

“Blackwell.”

“Stop.”

He presses both hands over his heart.

“This is better than France.”