Page 40 of A Touch of Darkness

And I am utterly thankful for my restraint.

She’s a virgin. Something I didn’t realize prior to last night—when her scent was lingering in the air—though, why would I know such an intimate detail about her? I don’t know her as I knew Seraphina, though sometimes I let the two women entangle in my mind, losing track of where Seraphina ends and Sylvie begins.

I exhale sharply, forcing the thoughts away. There’s no room for weakness now, not when the stakes are rising.

A knock echoes through the house. Not loud, but insistent. I already know who it is. Sylvie has a way of disrupting my solitude, her presence like a ghost I’ve tried—and failed—to outrun. I urged her to stay in one of my many guestrooms after our interaction in the early hours of the morning. I promised to be nothing but a gentleman. I didn’t think either of us were in the headspace to chat about her sister. We both needed sleep.

I open the door to find her standing there in the hallway, her expression a mixture of defiance and something fragile beneath the surface. She doesn’t wait for an invitation, brushing past me into the library, to the scene where last night unfolded. Her scent—a tantalizing blend of fear, determination, and the faintest trace of vanilla—lingers in her wake.

“I’m surprised you didn’t walk right in,” I say, closing the door with deliberate slowness.

“Can we talk about what I intended on talking about when coming over last night—this morning?” she asks, running her hands through her long, unbrushed hair. “I had a vision”—she blurts—“or maybe a dream”—her voice trembles slightly—“of Lara.”

Her words cut through the haze in my mind like a blade. I’ve been piecing together fragments of what the Solstice Society might be planning, but hearing that Sylvie’s had a vision brings the puzzle into sharper focus. Her powers are awakening.

“Come with me,” I say, leading her deeper into the library. She follows, her footsteps soft against the marble flooring. The room feels heavier this morning, the air charged with unspoken words.

I motion for her to sit, but she remains standing, arms crossed. Stubborn as ever.

“Did you sanitize that thing?” she asks, eyes wide, and I almost think I see a shred of jealousy, though I’m probably just imagining what I want to see.

Shrugging, I lead her to another sitting area, and she finally does as she’s told and sits.

“I suppose before we go further, I should instruct you to call me Lucian. You’ve seen me fucking a woman. We’re probably more on a first name basis now, don’t you agree?”

She swallows so hard it’s visible, and I’m amused her discomfort—only because of where it stems from.

Sylvie nods, and I give her a quick smile.

“Tell me what you saw in the vision,” I say, sitting across from her. My tone is measured, though inside, I’m already bracing for the worst.

Sylvie hesitates, then recounts the vision in painstaking detail. Her voice falters when she describes Lara suspended in the air, surrounded by glowing symbols and what I know to be whispers of ancient spells. The description sends a chill through me, though I don’t let it show; Sylvie doesn’t need to be further traumatized.

“Temporal suspension,” I say when she finishes. “A rare and dangerous form of magic. If what you saw is true, Lara isn’t dead. Not entirely.”

Sylvie’s eyes widen as shock crosses her delicate features.

“If I am correct, if you truly had a vision, your sister is in a state of limbo,” I explain, “a state between life and death. It’s a form of imprisonment, often used to preserve someone for a specific purpose.

“It makes sense now,” she says, and I wait as she pauses to collect her thoughts. “The authorities asked me to go into the station to talk more about Lara. I did, and I had a terrible feeling in my stomach throughout the entire conversation. It felt like they weren’t being honest with me. At the end of our conversation, I asked to see Lara’s body. With everything going on, people telling me various things, I just…I wanted to see her.”

I wondered when she was going to bring this up to me.

She continues as she shakes her head, “But, when I asked, I was told that her body went missing from the morgue, Lucian.”

I feign shock, although I was there for the entire conversation. I don’t want her knowing I followed her. It isn’t my goal to be deceitful, something just pulled me to her. I had to make sure she was safe.

“And you don’t buy it,” I say. “Your first instinct is to trust authorities because they should be in their roles for the right reasons. Not all are, Sylvie,” I tell her. I know I need to inform her that I believe one—or maybe even both—of the officers are working directly with Solstice, although it needs to be much more vague, because how could I know which officers she spoke to unless I invaded her privacy?

“It is possible that Solstice has some of the Blackthorne police force underneath their thumb. They have many people who seem ‘normal’ working with them.”

Her face pales, but her voice is steady as I cross to one of the shelves, pulling down a weathered tome. “So you do believe the vision could be true? That maybe the Solstice Society truly is behind this?” she asks, as I turn page after page, searching for what I know lies encompassed in these sheets.

I nod. “It’s likely. They’ve been known to dabble in dark arts with dark magic witches, because no true or good witch will associate with them, and they’ve shown an unhealthy interest in your family’s lineage. I could see them keeping your sister suspended while they figure out their next steps with you.”

I sense Sylvie deflate, and a similar sense of defeat settles in my own bones.

I find the section I’m looking for and scan the words.

---