Page 86 of Requiem
Emma exhales the second she sees him. “Did Micah and Heather leave?”
His icy gaze lifts to us, calm and unreadable as ever. “Yes.”
There’s a beat where she hesitates, like she’s debating whether to ask the next question, and then she does anyway. “Did…did you watch that?”
His mouth curves. “Yes.”
Emma groans, slapping a hand to her forehead. “Oh, my god.”
“It’s more than alright,” he says smoothly, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. His eyes settle on me now. “Impressive, Jude.”
I nod once, unsure of what the hell to say to that. So I just settle for, “Thank you.”
Emma, clearly done with the conversation, turns and starts toward the stairs like she desperately needs air that isn’t shared with him for another second.
Rafe gestures after her. “You should follow.”
I linger for half a breath longer, meeting his gaze again. There’s something about him that I feel like should unnerve me, considering he is a dominating presence. But I find myself respecting it rather than shying from it. Perhaps it's the monster inside me recognizing the monster inside of him.
I turn and follow her, and the first thing that hits me is the light. It spills down from the top of the stairs, and I stop after a few steps. My hand lifts, pressing flat against the wall beside me, because my brain is already trying to whisper that this isn’t real. That I’m going to blink and be dragged back into Alexei’s basement, back into that chair, back into—
I exhale slowly, cutting it off before it can take root. Voices drift down from above.
Micah. Heather. Adriana. My chest tightens at the sound of them. It’s like I’ve just woken from a deep, dark slumber.
“It’s okay,” Emma murmurs softly. Her hand brushes mine, just enough contact to anchor me without overwhelming me, and I let that be the thing that moves me forward.
One step. Then another.
Rafe follows quietly behind us.
When I reach the top, the space opens into the living room, and for a moment, everything just…pauses. Heads turn, and conversations die mid-sentence as they all look at me.
It’s almost too much.
There are two people I don’t recognize near the table. One has short, messy black hair and dark eyes, with tattoos lining his arms. He looks wild. The other stands a little straighter, shoulder-length dark hair tied back, his brown eyes steady and quieter.
“This is Nico and Kieran,” Emma says, and they each offer a little wave.
And then a woman steps forward. She’s striking, confident, with blue eyes and black hair. She smiles at me. “Wow,” she says, like she’s genuinely taking me in. “I’m not going to lie, I’m a big fan.”
It catches me off guard enough that something almost like a laugh bursts out. “Thank you.”
Rafe steps up beside her. “Jude, this is my beautiful and fierce wife. Adela Sinclair-Vaughan.”
I nod once. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she says easily.
Before I can say anything else, Heather crosses the room in a blur and throws her arms around me.
My body tenses for a split second on instinct, but I catch her. I let out a quiet, surprised chuckle, my arms wrapping around her without hesitation. “Hey,” I murmur.
“Finally,” she says. “I saw you guys doing it.”
I laugh, then. I can’t help it. “That’s fantastic.”
She pulls back, eyes bright, and I barely have time to process it before Micah is there, too.
