Page 48 of Dark Fae's Destiny

Every pocket has something in it, I can tell as I peruse them now.

“Prepared for any occasion?” I lift an eyebrow at him.

“Prepared for any occasion.” He smiles back, though it’s tight as I feel tension swirl through him now with what we might face today. Quinn hands me a brace of silver Fae knives to strap to my forearms, then a holster for my thigh containing two shortened Faeanic spears.

As I velcro the weapons on, Quinn nods. He wears the same, and I imagine Lucca is outfitted just like us as I hear him call up from downstairs.

“Hurry up, Sleeping Beauties! Daylight’s wasting.”

Quinn opens his hand towards the stairs and I nod, ready. We go, heading down to where Lucca prepares breakfast, and I find all my attire is ridiculously comfortable and breathable, the perfect weight.

As we arrive downstairs, I see Lucca moving around Quinn’s enormous dining table, setting up breakfast. It was probably delivered by magic to Quinn’s suite, but Lucca has taken the time to arrange everything, getting our coffee poured, our plates filled, and our cream and sugar mixed just the way each of us likes it.

Quinn goes to him, kissing Lucca briefly on the lips. As Lucca takes a moment to kiss him back, I reflect on how normal everything is now between us. It’s lovely to see Quinn and Lucca together in harmony, at last. They move around each other like an old couple, their familiarity born of hundreds of years of knowing, loving, and hating each other.

They make room for me at the table; as Quinn pulls my chair out, I sit. He’s at the head of the table, of course, Lucca on his left with me on his right.

The plethora of maps all shoved down to the other end to make way for breakfast.

We eat in silence, each of us enjoying our meal as we ponder what’s ahead. For the first time, it’s nothing we could ever know or even predict, as we contemplate what Staphylogenes might have in store for us. His trail through many worlds wasn’t laid for us, not really, but it has become our quest now to enter his labyrinth and decipher it.

As Quinn finishes his plate, downs his coffee, and stands—heading to the maps.

“I know where to access this tunnel on the Twilight Realm side of Florence. We can get there via some of my Vampire tunnels, right from the Hotel.” He taps the spot where the glowing white lines of our sigil originate. Before we entirely crashed out last night, I’d felt Quinn rise from bed, head downstairs, and do something. Now, I see that where the glowing white lines are, he’s marked with a vivid crimson pen.

The lines are still there, but his move was prudent. They’re faded now from what we did last night; I imagine they’ll be all but gone once we set out this morning.

Though our intention won’t be.

“Well. No time like now, I suppose.” Lucca nods at the maps as Quinn gathers up the ones with our marked lines. As Quinn slips them into the breast pocket of his down vest, Lucca scrapes the rest of his food into his mouth while I down my coffee. We’re up from the table in a trice.

Not knowing if we’ll ever come back here, as Quinn opens the door and holds it for us.

“Youth before wisdom and crotchetiness,” Quinn says with a strangely teasing demeanor this morning as his dark eyes twinkle.

“I guess you can be crotchety sometimes.” I banter with him as I exit, Lucca on my heels.

“I meant Lucca.” Quinn gives a sly grin now, as Lucca moves past him.

“I am crotchety when I have a Master Vampire goading me. Or rather, a Master Dark Fae.” But even Lucca is strangely smiling this morning, though I can still feel the tension of what we’re up against seething through us.

The fact is, we either do or die today, and we know it. The thought is strangely liberating, as we head out through the door and Quinn takes the lead, maneuvering us through the Hotel’s ornate underground passages before he opens a portrait and we head into the Hotel’s secret, blue-lit halls.

We’re only in those a moment, however, before we come to the same weeping madonna statue Devi and I once accessed the Hotel’s deepest catacombs with, which leads to underground tunnels that extend throughout Florence. As Quinn touches the weeping statue with his power and the dead-end alcove shimmers away, I have the strangest sense of déjà vu, like I’m escaping his diabolical scheming with Devi all over again.

This time, however, I’m not headed out to have an unexpected rendezvous with the Prince of the Summer Fae. He’s right here beside me, marching through these grey-lit catacombs with me and the former Prince of the Summer Fae.

Both of them mine—that day worlds away now.

“Here. This is it,” Quinn says at last. I see we’ve arrived at the ornate underground tomb I’ve been in twice already now. The first time was with Devi, then again when we and all Quinn’s people were escaping Florian’s takeover of the Florence Dark Haven and the Red Letter Hotel.

It makes me feel sad now as Quinn moves to the central tomb in the vaulted catacomb and stares down at it. A particularly ornate tomb, it has but a single bier inside it, though the entire alcove is carved in friezes, as if it tells the life of some ancient Vampire saint.

Ornate, Fae-like details devour the tomb; wind and water, flowering trees, and blossoming vines flow across the ornamented alcove and the bier itself. I don’t know why, but something about this tomb and the alcove it’s in holds an intense energy. As if the person who was buried in it was of great importance to the ancient Ascendants, it seems like it’s neither a Vampire nor Fae tomb, but both, with all the ancient sigil-work and beautiful pastoral etchings all over it.

Suddenly, I understand why this tomb is so ornate, and what it is. As I get it, I feel Quinn and Lucca get it, too.

We all inhale—knowing this is the start of Staphylogenes’ heart’s resting place.

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