Talon and Lucian seem to have done a wonderful job, but that still doesn’t account for the fact that we haven’t had our king. Plus, I believe that Talon will be getting married soon.”
His eyebrows popped up. Talon, marrying? A snort almost left him. “Are you sure your head is on right, Scesia? I can’t see Talon marrying, let alone talking to a female.”
She gave a small laugh. “I’m as sane as I was ten years ago, Zyn. And yes, they do not know that I’ve been watching over them. Poor Vladimir is at his wits end. He’s my little spy. I hook him up at the hospice and he tells me what is going on with Talon and Lucian.”
“Who’s Vladimir?”
“A friend of mine. A diva, but very apt and loyal to the throne. Also the last vampire,” she tacked on, nodding her head at his shocked expression.
“That’s surprising... Who is Talon getting married to?” he asked, brow furrowing. He knew he should be asking about the throne and his people and the demons, but something was nagging him, pulling at his neck.
“A fine young woman, I heard. Barely twenty-six, but very mature. Vladimir thinks highly of her,” she told him, fluffing her already frizzy hair as the door opened to the diner. A young man walked past them, shooting Zyn a look before disappearing into the back.
“And that’s something that I should take into consideration, I’m guessing?”
“Vladimir isn’t easy to get along with, very judgmental, and highly temperamental. If he trusts someone like he does to this young woman, than you can trust your life with her. Simple as that.”
“I see,” he said, watching as the door to the kitchen opened. The cook and several of the staff members came out holding plates. With a glare and a disgusted sniff, they started to place plates and plates of food on the table. He waited till they were gone, ignoring the hunger that shot through his stomach at the amazing scent of eggs and bacon. The second the cook’s back disappeared into the kitchen, he dug in. Scesia picked up a piece of toast and took bird-bites while watching him.
He didn’t notice her silence until he saw the glazed look in her eyes. “Scesia?” A low glow came over her eyes, and they shot straight gray. He reached over, grabbing her hand, shaking her. Alarm laced his voice.“Scesia? Stop, this isn’t funny.”
“She is going to die.” He froze at the deep, inhuman voice that came from her closed lips. Her back was jack-straight, eyes locked on his yet obviously not seeing anything, and they were slowly turning into a glistening black. A red tear dripped from her black-hole eyes, and a second later, she was gasping for breath.
“Who?” he demanded. He’d seen this happen before, when he’d been a child playing in the field with his brother. Zyn had left to get a wooden sword, and he’d run into Scesia. Back then, they’d still lived in the Scayth, and he had thought that nothing would ever happen to his family.
The second she’d seen him, her eyes had done exactly as they had right then. Except then, she had said, “He is going to die.” When he’d ran to his brother, the household following them with her mother sobbing and calling his name, they had found Dyvl torn up. Bloody. Dead.
“Zyn, you must leave. Take the food with you, but leave. Search for her -- your daughter. Reach deep inside of yourself and find her, you don’t have much time!” Scesia grasped his hands, pulling him to his feet. His body was rock hard, shocked.
“She’s dead...” Even as he spoke, he was already searching. Already dying on the inside. Already realizing that he might not ever see the daughter he had thought long dead. Scesia could be wrong -- hell, he had seen her die before his eyes in that dark forest, yet she was rarely wrong. Never wrong. Pain tore through him, and then the belief that after everything, he might get another chance.
“No! Find her -- before it’s too late. Oh god, Zyn. If she dies, everything is over. Amenia will --”
He didn’t hear the last words she said.
Zyn was gone.
Jamie shot after Talon in an almost blind state. He was laying close to Lucian, blood pouring from his forehead. His eyes were closed and she knew he was unconscious. Panic assailed her like a house on fire. The car was down the street -- they’d rounded a corner