Page 125 of The Mourning Throne
A low current under the skin. The kind of wrong that didn’t come with footsteps or shadows. It came in the stillness. The hush that arrived too fast.
Years and years of watching others did something to a person. Etched caution into the bones. It sharpened instincts untilcertain things—specific moments—were no longer peaceful. They were a warning. Something old and animal, wired so deep it didn’t require nerve-endings or thought.
Morgan’s gaze swept the lot, slow and unhurried. Nothing between the cars. No shape in the alley. No movement in the mirrors above them.
But that wrongness clung to him. Heavy. Unshakable.
They weren’t alone.
He felt it in the back of his skull. Would’ve staked his entire life on it.
Lex leaned over toward the driver’s side. “What’s going on, Morgan?”
Morgan’s jaw ticked.
If someone wanted to visit them in person?
Let them.
Chapter 22
The further they got from the restaurant, the more that feeling of being watched disintegrated.
The tension in Morgan’s chest slowly fizzled out. By the time they pulled into the parking garage, the wrongness had all but vanished. No eyes at their backs. No weight at the base of his skull.
One less thing to worry about.
Morgan checked his watch.
7:15p.m.
Too much time left. Over four hours.
He killed the ignition and the car clicked into silence.
“Do you want to stay here while I pack?” he asked, unfastening his belt. “I shouldn’t be long.”
Lex shook his head, too fast. “I’ll come up.”
Morgan didn’t answer right away. Just watched the way Lex’s fingers tapped against his thigh—slow and uneven. His gazestayed fixed out the passenger-side window, jaw slack, breath too quiet.
“I don’t want you stretching yourself too thin,” Morgan said finally.
Lex didn’t respond.
He was still acting strange. Not in the way that scared Morgan anymore, at least. Not in the way that made him want to check Lex’s pulse. But in the way someone floats just a little above their own body. Present, but not quitehere.
It wasn’t surprising.
One breakdown was enough to change a person’s equilibrium.
But two?
Two, back-to-back, within the span of only a few days?
That did something.
Something permanent.
