David looked shocked. “You killed him?”
Morrigan turned towards Lucius, startled by the intensity of his stare. “We need to leave as soon as we can,” she told him.
“But we haven’t even buried Jacob,” Libraean protested from across the room.
Lucius sighed, running his fingers through his wavy black locks. Morrigan observed from his unkempt appearance that he’d also been attempting to rest.
“That, and we’re in the midst of a winter storm. My lawyers have amassed a crew who understand the delicate nature of what we are, but they are not convinced a safe passage can be had right now.”
“Can’t we man the ship ourselves?” Cahira protested.
“It is much too large for six to manage, even if they all happen to be supernatural.”
“Then we can take my ship.”
Sandrine interjected. “Cahira, your ship is in ruins. I have sailed to Africa several times and it requires a sturdy vessel to get us there safely. The southern ocean is unpredictable. Although the climate grows warmer the further we descend, it’s not the easiest time to sail.”
“Then what are we supposed to do, wait until Angelique throws another army at our feet? A stronger one perhaps?” Cahira said hotly.
“Wait—” David interrupted in a voice louder than usual, the authoritative tone echoing throughout the parlor. “Cahira, you might be a liminal, but you are essentially a human, and your adrenaline is so high the entire room can hear the blood rushing through your veins.”
“It’s true,” Morrigan softly confirmed.
“You should take a minute to pull yourself together,” he told her.
Cahira stared at him, speechless.
“And Libraean is right,” he continued to the rest of them. “We are not leaving until we properly bury Jacob, in a churchyard, as he would have wanted it. Lucius?”
“I planned to tell you all before I discovered the ladies were missing—I received word that the service is scheduled for tomorrow morning,” he replied. “We’re fortunate I have influence in this town.”
“Good.” David nodded. “Then we can plan on being here for at least one more day. Morrigan, are you able to control the snow like you do the rain? I could try to blow away the clouds, but I fear I would just end up creating a cyclone of snowflakes.”
“It is not the same as with the rain,” she replied, avoiding direct eye contact with him. “It requires much more effort. If you’d like, I can try the night after tomorrow, after Jacob is in the ground.”
He nodded. “Alright, then can we leave here two nights from now, with Morrigan containing the snow until we hit warmer temperatures.” David looked up at Lucius amicably to confirm, even though Morrigan could see his jaw tense.
“Yes,” Lucius said simply, without betraying a single emotion in his face.
David didn’t seem to notice. He turned back to Cahira who had been watching him distrustfully since he’d asked her to calm down. “Do you think you can put up some sort of shield around us, like you did when you prevented Angelique from finding you before?”
“I hid my scent from her, then barely used my power unless I had to,” she explained. “We would all have to stop using any power to achieve the same effect, and you would have to stop sending out your scent.”
It was Libraean’s turn to interject, appearing thoroughly confused. “What scent? How do we do that?”
“All creatures on earth—animals, humans, creatures—involuntarily emit pheromones,” Lucius explained. “Since we have all long adjusted to having heightened senses, we forget how strong our sense of smell truly is. It’s how we hunt so well, and how we know when the others are near, long before we see or hear them. The pheromones of unnatural creatures are especially strong because we are, essentially, both human and animal—perfect sentient predators.”
“Chamomile,” Libraean whispered. He looked up nervously when he realized they all looked at him. “Jacob smelled of chamomile,” he explained, sorrow softening his voice.
The room went quiet. Unbearably so to Morrigan as she contemplated how much she enjoyed the scent of hawthorn and tobacco, just as much as she enjoyed the smell of bonfires and cloves. “How do we stop emitting them so Discordia cannot detect us?” she asked Cahira, who appeared lost in her own recollection of desirable scent.
“We all must stay calm,” she sighed, looking at Morrigan, then David, then Lucius. “Meaning we should stay separated until Jacob’s funeral. Since I suspect emotions will rise there, Sandrine and I can keep watch over the house while you’re away. Then we will get through the next day, and set sail right before Morrigan has to call on her power to control the storm.”
The room plunged into silence once more.
Lucius was the first to speak, breezing past them all as he headed up the stairwell. “I’ll be in my library if anyone needs me.”
“I’m going to take this opportunity to rest,” Libraean decided, shuffling back towards the direction of his room.
Sandrine looked at Cahira. “I agree with what David said earlier—humans need to rest. I’ll guard the parameter while you do.”
Cahira rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she mumbled, grabbing her boots and sending another spray of mud across the marble as she headed up to her room.
Morrigan could feel David’s eyes on her as Sandrine quietly withdrew with a nod. “Goodnight,” Morrigan murmured to him before he had the chance to speak, climbing up the stairwell after Lucius.
“I’ve been thinking about Ireland.”
Morrigan froze.
“Did you think about him then?” David asked her quietly. The fireplace gave a startling pop.
She refused to look at him, not waiting to see his expression. “We aren’t supposed to let our emotions rise,” she reminded him.
“I am not like him,” he continued, edging closer to the stairs.
She could see his soft, imploring eyes in her mind, could envision the way his hair fell into them as he spoke.
“I have never chased you nor demanded anything from you,” he said. “I don’t even want to convince you to be mine—if you wanted to, you would be. But I do think you would offer me some closure after all we’ve been through together. I want to know if Ireland was real, or if you pined for him back then.”
