Page 42 of Chaos
I rubbed at my chest, wondering what the fuck was happening to me. I had put aside mortal things like emotion when I’d taken up Famine’s mantle, so what did it mean that they were returning now? Was it permanent? Was something wrong with me? Was this a side effect of Hel’s ritual or the start of the apocalypse? Were we reverting to our mortal selves as the grains in the hourglass slipped away, counting down the end of us all?
Whoa. Okay. Calm down.
Get your shit together, Sinclair. Go get some coffee in you and stop with the stand-up philosophizing.
As I strode down the stairs, a weird ache took hold of my heart, kind of a twisting pain, an emptiness, and I realized what it was. Yearning. Oh dear God. I wasyearningfor Merri. I just wanted to see her. My gaze flicked to every corner, every doorway, in search of her. You’d think she was a fountain and I was dying of thirst with this desperate display I was trapped in. What had she done to me? Turned me into some lovelorn fool from a Jane Austen novel?
This had to be some sort of succubus love spell. There was no other explanation for it.
You know she can’t do that. You’re immune to those sorts of powers. This is your stupid human side.
The low sound of droning voices hit my ears as I came upon the kitchen. Christian was hunched over his phone, bags and boxes of provisions lying forgotten as he fixated on whatever the person on the other end was saying.
A man was speaking in an affected French accent.
“This is Jean-Marie Antoinette bringing you the latest in juicy news from around the world. I know I’m typically your source for catty gossip and scandals, but today we have to talk about how Parícutin needed to upstage Vesuvius and destroy not just a city but the entire state of Michoacán, Mexico.
“Pompeii who? Never met her. Rescue efforts are stalled since, so far, no one has been able to get through the cloud of ash without their aircraft’s engines being damaged and the toxicity in the air making it unbreathable even with protective gear. Oh, and there’s also that liquid-hot magma situation. I’m all for a hot stone massage, but this seems a little extreme.”
Who the fuck was this asshole? Treating yet another lost wonder of the world like it was gossip fodder instead of a clear sign of the end times? And where was the compassion for allthose lost lives—not that I particularly cared about that, but as one of their ranks, shouldn’t he? I had half a mind to track him down and give him a front-row seat to what famine could do to a person.
“Like for part two, and remember, I might only be half French, but I’m aaaaall cake.”
“Mon Dieu,” Christian muttered under his breath. “He’s an abomination. Someone should deport him.”
“Amen, sister.”
Christian shrieked and dropped his phone as he spun around, hand pressed against his chest. “You are like a terrifying cat, sneaking around and waiting for your chance to pounce.”
I chuckled. “I said your name. Twice.”
“I was busy.”
“Yes, with the cake.”
His expression went serious. “It’s been all over social media. Another wonder of the world destroyed. Everyone is reporting on it. This is the third in as many weeks.”
“Right on schedule,” I muttered under my breath.
“Quoi?”
Ignoring him, I counted on my fingers. Victoria Falls, Everest, now Parícutin. Another motherfucking Prince was probably out there and coming after my Merri.
Our Merri.
No. Just Merri.
Fuck.
“I’ve got to tell the others. Thanks for the chat, Chris.”
The Frenchman frowned and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Christian.”
“That’s what I said.”
Turning on my heels, I made a beeline for the room we’d claimed as our gathering place, shouting for the others to join me. Chaos was already there, coffee in hand, scowl in place.
“What’s wrong with you?” he grumbled.
