Or Wilder’s shadow, as I have always referred to him. He always seems to be there behind him, ready to taunt me right after Wilder. I suppose I should have wondered where he has been all this time with Wilder being near me so much. But I didn’t care enough to ask.
“Hello, Wilder,” he says before his eyes flit to me. “Bronwyn, the surprise is all mine.”
He smiles, flashing a smile of white teeth that are just a bit too pointed. His eyes in this lighting could be mistaken for deep brown, but I know that if I get closer, I would see the truth. His eyes are red, like the blood that now sustains him.
Wilder doesn’t seem to notice the minute changes to his friend. I suppose it’s fair, he did not grow up in a world of vampires like I did. He was only recently thrust into this world. And so, despite being a vampire himself, he is slow to pick up on the signs.
“Gregos?” Wilder asks, turning a clearly questioning gaze to his friend. “What are you doing here?”
“He is here,” Professor Morozov replies in his stead, “because when I informed him of your recent engagement, he simply would not believe me unless I showed it to him. I’m surprised that you failed to discuss this engagement with your closest friends,” Morozov continues in a slow tone, obviously challenging him.
“Gregos would know if he had showed up the last time Asimov and I had a drink,” Wilder says coolly. “I would have broken the news to him then just as I did for Asimov, but he was unwell.” Wilder pushes to his feet as his eyes flick over Gregos. “I am glad to see that you are better now.”
“Better than ever, my friend,” Gregos says with a smile. “Although that is no thanks to you.”
Wilder raises his eyebrow. “If you are going to accuse me of getting you sick, you had might as well save your breath. I’ve been in perfect health.”
Gregos glances at me, before he leans closer to Wilder. He raises his eyebrows. “We may be in the academy of Meruna, but you and I both bear the gifts of night do we not?”
Wilder’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to make sense of Gregos’s words. It’s simple really, he is referring to the Lady Night, the demigod daughter of Neltruna, the goddess of darkness and monsters. Lady Night is the mother of monsters, considering that she birthed the first dragons, and her followers were the first vampires. The rivalry between the mother and daughter is bitter indeed and followers of Neltruna are usually self-proclaimed vampire hunters.
But I suppose Wilder wouldn’t have too much knowledge of the demigods, not since their worship is illegal. He was not raised by a necromancer like I was. My father laughed in the face of worship of the gods. He and my sisters all serve the demigods instead.
I suppose I’m more of a neutral ground because I chose to pursue magic which was instituted by the gods instead of sorcery that the demigods wield. But I chose magic, not the gods.
But Wilder was likely raised on very little information on the demigods. He doesn’t strike me as particularly devout either, so I doubt that he spends much time in temples worshiping the gods and learning their stories.
Wilder’s eyebrows furrow as he tilts his head. “What are you…night gifts?”
This time Gregos looks straight at me as he says. “I have been welcomed into the order of monsters, my friend.”
I stiffen, feeling my mouth drop open that he would so brazenly say such a thing in front of me, but then I noticeMorozov watching me intently. Almost hungrily and I realize that this was always his intention to reveal this part of his secret.
He is testing me, seeing how I will react, and that reaction will determine my fate. In their eyes anyway.
The only problem is I’m not sure what reaction they expect me to give so that I can mimic it.
Fortunately, Wilder has enough of a reaction that it draws all the attention from me for a time. He stumbles away from Gregos, the back of his foot catching on the end of his chair, causing him to fall while the chair makes an unholy screeching sound as it is shoved to the side. I step forward in a vain attempt to catch him, but instead he catches himself on the table. His hand lands on a platter which sends lettuce and a roast pig flying all over him.
The pig drops to the floor, just as Wilder whirls on Morozov. “What have you done?”
“My purpose here,” the professor replies calmly. “I went through your notes and selected the best.”
“And you didn’t consult me first?” Wilder grinds out. “He was my friend.”
“I still am,” Gregos says as his eyes flick to me. “I just happen to understand you better now.”
Wilder turns to him, his nostrils flaring before he reaches out grasping my arm. “Come, Bronwyn.”
His hand trembles slightly when Morozov barks. “Where are you going, boy? I am not done with you.”
“But I am with you,” he snaps out before he strides forward, dragging me after him. We are running by the time we reach the door. I’m tripping on the edges of my fancy skirts to try to keep up with him. I’m not sure if he is running from Morozov and Gregos despite the fact that they don’t chase after us… or if he is just running from the thoughts in his head.
And if that’s the case I don’t have the heart to tell him that he won’t succeed in doing that.
I should know that more than anyone. No matter how hard you run, you can never escape your own mind.
Chapter Twenty
