Page 6 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

EGYPTIAN COTTON

Almost a full week, and the sensation of warmth on his skin—even in the bitter Boston chill of winter—hadn’t even begun to feel familiar as Tony Lloyd stood on the sixteenth-floor balcony of one of the fanciest hotels in the city.

Ashes from his cigarette floated on the wind, scattering about and reminding him of the freedom they all had, now that their leader had flittered away, much in the same manner.

That past was gone. Burned away. The beauty of this place in the ambiance of sunlight was breathtaking.

He couldn’t wait to take in the staggering beauty of the place they’d soon be going after New Years.

To see London again…to see Ireland. To walk the streets of Glasgow, and Edinburgh during the day, while the blue and white of St. Andrew’s cross flapped in winds from the Highlands.

Scotland would be a fine place to settle down for a century or two.

He had no words to thank Sarah St. James, and the mate that sired her.

He felt just as undeserving of this new life as Decclan and Devin had said they also did.

Both of which occupied a room on either side of him.

Small flurries of snow began to fall as the milky sunlight hid itself behind a blanket of clouds, and Tony turned back toward the open doorway as a knock sounded on his door.

He flicked his cigarette over the rail and went to answer it. Decclan waited on the other side.

“Morning, mate.”

Tony smiled, “Morning. Is it still just as strange for you to say, and actually mean it?”

“Understatement, old friend.” Tony moved aside and let him in.

Decclan had been a little quiet following Dahlia’s death, but didn’t seem to be taking it quite as hard as he imagined he would have after all these long years.

The large man made himself at home and poured himself some whiskey they had brought with them from the tavern at the small table in the middle of the suite.

“I know you’re the barkeep, but would you let me pour you a glass? ”

“Please,” Tony smiled, joining him and pulling a chair. They both sipped from their short glasses and were quiet for a moment as their attention inevitably went to the brightness of the sliding door. “You doin’ alright?”

Decclan sucked air through his teeth and nodded without turning his face back to look at him. “I am. Surprisingly so.”

“Ready to go home?”

“More than you know.” He swirled the amber liquid around in his glass. “Few more days and we get to experience another strange phenomenon.”

“You sure there’s not some kind of boat that can take us across the pond?” Tony’s stomach turned at the thought of getting on an airplane.

“Relax, mate. They have liquor on these things, supposedly. We’ll be fine.”

Tony took another sip, savoring the oaky taste. “I wonder where the rest will go.”

“I’m inclined not to give a shit.” Decclan smiled and lowered his chin, drinking from his glass. “Speaking of the rest though, there was a reason I came over.”

“It wasn’t for my fine company, and the theft of my whiskey?”

Decclan chuckled into his drink. “Not just that. Kane got in touch. He wanted to take us to some pub downtown before we leave. He’s got something he wants to talk to us about.”

“Our discretion?” Tony asked.

“Nah, I don’t think he’s worried about that. Sounded like something else.”

Tony finished off his whiskey and adjusted his cap. “When are we having this little get together?”

“He said that he and the girl would be at the pub in an hour. That work for you?”

Tony’s brows twitched and he gave Decclan a hard look before raising from his chair and plunking onto his back on his unmade bed.

The mattress billowed around him, and he nestled into the perfect softness of the sheets.

Decclan snorted. “I would probably refrain from referring to Kane’s mate as ‘the girl’ when we get there.

And that’s if you can convince me to part with these sheets. ”

“They are a far cry from the cots at the tavern.”

“It’s like laying in between the thighs of an angel, these sheets.” Tony smoothed the fabric across the ginger stubble of his cheeks. Decclan barked a laugh.

“You’re starting to sound like Dev.”

“Where is he? He coming with us to this meeting?”

“Yeah,” Decclan replied, standing. “He should be out of the bath in a little bit. That’s what he finds most enjoyable about this place, I think.”

“What I think…is that to be as old as we are, things like…” Tony pulled the worn tag of the sheets close to his face, “Egyptian cotton? Hmm…things like Egyptian cotton shouldn't suddenly be a luxury we never had.”

“You’re right. It’s odd to think that I never considered how oppressed we were being with her. Makes me question what I ever thought I loved about her, Tony.”

Tony raised himself to sit, and they stared at each other for a long, quiet moment. “I think you loved the idea of her, mate. She was our queen. We didn’t really know any different.”

“Kane did.”

Tony nodded gently and stared off at the wall. “Yeah…he did.”

“I don’t ever wanna be controlled like that again. It’s probably good that we’re meeting them tonight. I’ve got a great deal to thank her for. I feel like I owe him an apology.”

“I don’t think he expects one, Decc.”

“That’s why I need to do it, man.” Decclan shook his head in shame. “I’ve spent centuries treating him like an asshole, and I should have been the friend I thought I was being. Kane fought like hell for that freedom. We didn’t deserve for him to extend it to us.”

“Just because we were lost, doesn’t mean we aren’t deserving of it. None of us had a choice, Decclan. He knew that, too.”

Decclan abruptly turned his head. “You saying you suddenly feel like you deserve it?”

Tony remained quiet.

“No.”

Silence stretched between them, becoming a strange, stifling thing.

It was silence like this that made his mind wander.

The only thing left for them to do now was live…

but…how does one live? What does one do with all this freedom after being held within the dark for this long?

Decclan moved first, breaking the silence with the buckles on his boots as he stepped around and clapped Tony’s shoulder.

“Get that spindly ass from between those angelic sheets and be ready in twenty. I don’t know how to get to where we’re going, but I’m inclined to walk.”

“Walk? Why?”

Decclan’s face turned back towards the sliding glass door to the balcony and a smile appeared that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Because we can.”

Athan flicked his cigarette, sitting across from Sarah in the same large booth they’d been in the last time they were here—their first real date.

Thinking back on it, he couldn’t even recall ever taking a woman out to dinner.

He supposed it was more than just a first date between them…

it was likely his first date ever . As dates go, he couldn’t imagine it going as well as it had, even though what he’d planned for Sarah after they left McClellan’s, he still hadn’t had the opportunity to fulfill.

Sarah didn’t seem to even remember that they had planned anything else the last time.

She sat Indian style in the seat, stewing over the menu and involuntarily bobbing her shoulders to the Irish folk music blaring in the bar.

Athan stared at her, drawing from his cigarette.

“You know…if I didn’t know you, I’d find it extremely creepy that you stare with that kind of intent.” She didn’t even look up at him from the menu—which she seemed to be studying, more than reading. He grinned, flicking more ashes into an empty cup.

“And what intent is that, exactly?”

“The kind that promises an empty plate. Licked clean. You know…like the dessert you never ordered the last time we were here.” Her eyes flashed to him over the menu.

“Psh…” he smirked. “I still got my dessert. And if I recall correctly…I did lick that plate clean.”

“You’re a fiend,” she smiled, looking back down at the menu. “I love it.”

“Do we already have plans for after?” he asked, sliding a sweating glass of iced water toward him.

“Yeah, Brent gets out today. Somebody has to go pick him up. As Wren has indefinitely shut herself in, and he has no family or friends…that somebody is me today.”

Athan huffed, sipping from the straw. “That’s the second time we’ve left this place to go to a hospital. And for him…again.”

Sarah looked up and smirked. “Uh oh…”

“What?”

“Do I detect jealousy?” Her smirk quickly widened into a grin.

“Sarah, you can’t be serious.”

She sat the menu down and crossed her arms. “No? Whatever bro-code you two had last week sure seems…diminished.”

Oh, she was enjoying this. Everything about her face and her body language said as much. Why the hell was he turned on?

“Are you done?” he asked, taking another drag. She dropped her hands to the table.

“Damn it. It’s either that hard to get you worked up, or you’ve got one hell of a poker face, detective.”

“Is that what you were trying to do?” he grinned, blowing smoke. “You’re about the only person that knows exactly how to get me… worked up .”

Before Sarah could come up with a clever retort, the waitress popped in at the end of the table to take their orders.

Once they finished, and she started to walk away, Decclan, Tony and Devin walked through the door, awestruck by the authenticity of the pub.

Decclan reached the booth first, extending his hand to Athan.

“Hey, brother.” His voice was gravelly. Almost emotional. His hand was ice cold. Athan stood, sliding out and leaning forward until their chests touched and they slapped backs. Tony and Devin looked around, taking everything in. Athan gestured towards his mate.

“You remember Sarah.”

“Yes,” Decclan smiled, offering her his hand. “Pleasure to see you again.”