Page 153 of Amethyst and Iron
According to the teachings of this book I was reading calledEmotional Intelligence in the Modern Age,which Lazriel had sent Cassius weeks ago, it was likely frustration rooted in feeling powerless both without his magic and with his father being revealed as living.
I’d gotten this book from Cassius because with Lazriel, Velra, and Sylas now around so much and deeply entangled with him, it had seemed pertinent for me to expand my knowledge when it came to emotions and relationships of the mortal realm. Mykindred, Ariana, claimed that I had already come a long way in that regard, but I wanted to be certain, to know more.
I slotted my bookmark between the pages. I didn’t really need one, I had exceptional recall. But Velra had given it to me. Actually, she’d made it for me when she’d come to Haven Initiative recently. It had beads dangling off it that were arranged in the colors of the rainbow. She’d learned thatrainbowwas my favorite color. I loved all the colors that formed such a beautiful phenomenon, so I had decided not to choose. Besides, with even a single color missing, the rainbow was not the same. It had to be all of them. The other aspect of the lovely bookmark was a special wire threaded with rainbow heart gems that she’d fashioned with her jewelry-making skills.
I smiled to myself as I rested my book on my pillow, then pushed off the bed and strode out of the room to see if I could assist Sylas and lessen some of his upset.
Not only could I feel the tension radiating through the space as I drew closer, but I also registered that his pulse was worryingly erratic.
I turned the corner and a journal came flying through the air.
I snatched it with a burst of speed before it sailed by.
“Sorry,” Sylas spoke, looking up from the couch where he sat with more journals and many papers spread all over the surface of our coffee table. I also noted that he had four coffee mugs interspersed amongst it all.
It didn’t quite serve to explain the full extent of his erratic pulse, however, even with him ingesting that much caffeine while he was in a near human state with his power currently bound.
As I approached, I studied him in greater depth.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, even trickling down his temples.
His hands were trembling.
And his gaze was wild as he repeatedly drove his fingers through his now messy hair.
“You are experiencing an anxiety attack,” I told him as I reached the coffee table and stood opposite him.
He looked up at me again from the couch. “I’m fine,” was all he said, before returning his attention to a brown, leather bound journal in front of him, a pen held in his shuddering grip as he scrawled magical symbols across it that were barely legible given his state.
Symbols that I was well-versed with.
“Allow me to ground you.”
He did not look up again this time. “No need, K. Appreciated, though.” He continued scrawling, grunting as he could not form the symbols properly.
I saw limited options with his responses, so I snatched the pen from his hand, along with the journal.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
I didn’t respond, focusing on the task at hand instead—what he actually needed.
Employing my vampiric speed combined with my extensive magical knowledge base, I rapidly reformed them—pages upon pages of them, then handed it back to him.
He took it and his gaze flicked from me to the pages. He appeared stunned. “Well… thanks. This is… thank you.”
“You are attempting to determine how Morien Morgrave has been resurrected.”
“You read all that, absorbed it already? That’s not the entirety of the research.”
I lifted a shoulder. “There was a pattern to be found. I was able to bridge the proverbial gap and determine the bigger picture at play, what you are actually attempting here. I thought Cassius told you to wait until he returned before you delved into this once more?”
“He was just concerned I’d leave to seek out answers.” He rolled his eyes, but it seemed performative, more than true. “I have no magic. How would I even do that? His worry is unfounded.”
“Who do you mean to reach out to, if the way was clear?”
“Ambrose Wisteryn.”
Startlement betook me. “The black magic virtuoso.”
