A Dance of War - Ellie R. Hunter Page 0,95

my clothes, I keep my mouth shut as I dress.

Sitting on the bed to tie my laces, a sob bursts from her lips. I look up, startled, to see there’s a serious fight warring inside her head.

“I don’t know what’s spooked you, but our feelings for one another are real. It was destiny that brought us together, but it’ll be down to us to fight for each other. And I will fight for you, Mila.”

She turns her back to me, and as much as I want to stay and make her see she’s wrong, I go to leave, but warn, “This isn’t over,” before closing her door.

At the top of the stairs, I hear her throw something across the room, where it smashes against the wall.

I haven’t slept since leaving the Camarco estate, and I can’t sit still longer than a few seconds. I’m worse than a child with a sugar rush.

Back in the car, I take advantage of the empty streets, I floor it, pushing the speed until I’m parking at the nursing home. Cristian is back at the house, trying to figure out what the hell is going on now. I could tell him, but I don’t want to share my moments with Mila together with anyone.

After signing in at the reception desk, I make my way to Father Luke’s room and stop in the doorway, finding him sketching away in his bed.

I clear my throat to get his attention, and when he looks up, he smiles broadly.

“Raphael. I was hoping you would come back and visit alone.”

Crossing the room, I drag over a plastic chair and set it at his bedside and take a look at his sketches. Every drawing is of the tunnel, with the two figures at the far end.

“Why? Is there something you needed to tell me?” I ask.

“No, nothing like that. It’s been a long time, that’s all. I’ve missed our chats.”

I’ve missed them too, but it’s not what I want to hear today.

“But you’re here because you want to see if I can tell you more about the tunnel vision. And don’t you condescend me by lying.”

“You know me so well, Father. Is there anything you can tell me?”

He drops the piece of charcoal on his lap and holds up a sketch. “Nothing has changed. I see this tunnel, and you and Mila passing through it.”

“You said you sensed the calm before the storm. Do we run and come back stronger?”

“If that’s what occurs, then yes.”

“Father,” I growl, losing the thin thread of patience I have left. “Can you for once give me a straight answer?”

His voice is rough as he chuckles. “There are no straight answers, as your decisions change all the time. No one knows the ending before it happens. Human nature is fickle, and it’ll never change.”

“Why do you have these visions if you can’t help us?”

“I am a messenger of God, Raphael. It’s my duty to pass them along, but it’s up to you how they come about.”

He’s absolutely no help. I hang my head in my hands as a roaring ache takes root in the back of my head, spreading down my neck and into my shoulders.

“Raphael, you have had to fight all your life because of who you are. Though it’s not been fair, you’re still here. You’re strong, and your will has never wavered. You know what you want, but you also know the cost will be a high price to pay.”

“Are you talking about Mila?”

“Mila is Vita, and Vita is you both. The two go hand in hand, just like you with her. Everything that’s happened has been for a reason, yet you must understand, the path I led you to never indicated a time frame. It’s you and her who can end this, but you have to work with her, no matter how many times she pushes you away.”

“We’ve been… together, the last few nights, and it’s been everything I’ve missed. Last night, I think she had a bad dream, and when I tried to talk to her about it, she asked me to leave. Could she have had a vision of her own? Did she see something that shook her to the core?”

“It’s possible. And if it’s true, I would guess the vision was of you. She was a broken mess after her mother was murdered, but she mourned the loss of your relationship even more. Even before you bent the knee, she still mourned you, and I would say you’ve been

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