Page 49 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)
Chapter 48
Simon
Simon’s sleep was fitful, full of visions of Gabriel and Rebecca wrapped together in each other’s arms. He woke, letting his senses take in his surroundings. Some habits were hard to break.
The scent of perfume hung in the air, cloying and strong, burning his nostrils. A voice spoke, reporting on current events in the next room, and the chill sucking the life from every living thing crept insidiously along his extremities.
His lids lifted, and he blinked several times. Yesterday, he hadn't felt the magic. He’d thought it was gone forever. Now, he sensed the surrounding life. It was weak, a fraction of his former ability, but it was in the plant drooping beside him and the tiny insect scurrying under the counter. A steady heartbeat, strong and healthy, thrummed in the room next door.
Valentina.
Hesitantly, he stretched out his hand, touching the edges of wilting, yellowed leaves. He watched, hardly daring to breathe as green bled along the broad surface of the nearest leaf, darkening into a healthy shade. Buds formed along its stem, slowly expanding until tiny pink petals stretched toward him.
Elation shot through him. If his gifts were returning, he would soon be able to heal himself. He would be free of this bed and Valentina’s suffocating presence. He could return to Rebecca and stop her from making a horrible mistake before it was too late.
Before he lost her forever to the demon.
Simon cupped both hands in his lap, willing the soft white glow to form between his fingers. Cursing quietly, he whispered the words that had come so naturally before, fumbling to put them in the correct order. Nothing.
The heart rate in the next room sped up just the slightest bit, and Valentina stepped through the door, her face lighting up when she found him awake.
Her too-sharp gaze darted to the plant beside him. “Baby! Your gifts are back!”
He let his hands relax, folding his right hand over his left to still their nervous fidgeting. He’d never told her he was a healer. Never told anyone about that gift until Rebecca and the coven.
He’d thought it was a shame he would carry forever. The dark, perverted magic meant to give life, but for him, it had only ever taken life—until he became a reash.
Valentina reached his side, resting a hand on his forehead. “Your fever is down. That’s a good sign.”
Her hand lingered on his face a beat longer than necessary, and Simon worked to stop the cringe her touch caused. Once, he’d cared for her, craved her doting, affectionate nature. Now, he wished for nothing more than to be free of her for good.
“I need to check my email.”
Her lips turned down, but she strode away from him to the dining room table where she’d set his laptop down the night before. It had been intentional, leaving it out of his reach. He was at her mercy, and she took pains to remind him of it.
“Your surgery is not until three, but the doctors want you back at the hospital by twelve to prep.” She set the computer gently across his lap, pressing a button beside his head to raise him slightly. “Nothing to eat or drink before surgery, but I promise to buy you whatever you want when you’re back home.”
Home. She said the word as if she had any idea what it meant. Her cold, colorless apartment was nothing like the Graves Estate, the place he’d shared with Rebecca and all her incarnations .
“I just need to do a few things before we go. It will be an hour, tops.” He silently chafed at having to ask permission.
She eyed him thoughtfully. “Have you seen the news?”
He shook his head, lifting the laptop screen and pressing the power button.
“Strange things are happening.”
“Like what?” he asked, eyeing the screen as it powered to life.
“Strange weather and people disappearing. A lot of them. Incidents of crime across Europe. People are saying it’s the end times.” She laughed as she said the last bit.
Odd, no doubt, but in his current condition, Simon could do nothing about any of it.
He opened Gmail, making a show of checking email as Valentina stood watching over his shoulder. He tapped the screen, opening spam email after spam email, scanning each benign bit of correspondence.
After an interminable amount of time, she left his side, going to the dining room table to straighten something. She was always doing that, moving things a fraction of an inch to the left or the right. Everything had to be just so.
Simon drummed his fingers on the side of his laptop, waiting.
Finally, finally , Valentina left the room.
Finding the app on his desktop, he clicked the security alarm app.
All devices offline.
That wasn’t right. He clicked each camera feed, but just as it said at the top of the screen, every device was off. He clicked the living room feed.
Playback disabled. To reactivate service, contact us at 800-866-9133.
That wasn’t right. The service was paid annually. He ground his teeth, going back to the top of the page. A red triangle with an exclamation point inside it was displayed across the page banner.
There was a moment of dread when he wondered if something horrible had happened. Something bad enough to turn off all the cameras. A fire? Something worse?
Picking up his phone, he typed a quick message: Rebecca, please tell me you’re okay. Please respond .
Three dots appeared on the screen, and he let out a whoosh of air, sighing in relief.
I know what you did.
The words sent a jolt of fear straight through him. Claire? Had she found out about Claire? He raised trembling fingers, but three dots appeared again. He froze, blind panic seizing him.
I found the camera in my room.
More dots.
I never thought you would do something so vile. Don’t text me and don’t spy on me anymore.
Some of the ice leaching through his veins thawed even as her words twisted something sharp and painful in his chest. Rebecca didn’t understand, but he could explain it.
He just needed to get to her, to see her, and he could put things right.