Page 108 of Reaper's Quest

“Another what?” He glanced from Kira to Myla, but the quieter twin showed no indication she knew what her sister was talking about.

In fact, Myla presently showed no indication she was aware of anyone else in the room. Her hands kept moving and moving, drawing senseless squiggles. Her gaze seemed to peer straight through her room companions.

Kira glanced upward and raised her finger to the ceiling, possibly to Raven’s room above. “I saw another that looks like her. Same sort of silvery skin. Only he had a different color in his black hair, and his shine was a little different.”

Chace? Had Kira seen Raven’s missing associate?

“Was the hair color a sheen of purplish blue?” Winter asked, choosing to ignore her comment about silver skin.

Clearly, she saw them differently, because he’d never detected any silver hue to either of their skin.

She nodded.

All hint of humor slipped from his expression, and he leaned close, staring hard into her young face. “Where did you see him?”

She glanced at her sister then dropped her gaze to her lap. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that.”

“Of course you can.”

He couldn’t imagine where she’d run into Chace. Most likely someplace where she never should have been, but Winter couldn’t think of a single thing she should be afraid to tell him.

She shook her head.

“Where did you see him, Kira?”

She shook her head again, this time more adamant.

“What’s going on? What secret are you keeping?”

A clatter sounded from the room above, followed by Camilla’s yelp.

“I think she’s awake.” Kira slipped from her seat on the table and jogged toward the stairs.

Winter had no plans of allowing Kira to drop the conversation so easily, but he would allow a pause, for now, if Raven had truly awakened. He started to turn to follow Kira to the upper level, but Myla pushed away from the table, her chair scratching across the floor with a loud, harsh screech. She slammed her palms against the wooden surface, causing Winter to stop.

She tapped two fingers to her scribbled drawing, then she spun the paper and slid it toward him.

He stared down at the heavy lines of black. So much black, with just a hint of white. The creation oddly resembled a tunnel covered in shadow.

He rubbed his jaw.

Bars blocked the end of that narrow tunnel.

“What is this?” He glanced from the picture to Myla.

Her white-eyed stare turned slowly from him to the stairwell.

“Kira,” she said and tapped the picture. “Kira here.”

28

Fussing.

I hated the fussing. And at the moment, Camilla fussed…over me. Again.

I slowly swung my legs over the side of the bed. “I’m fine.”

The injuries on my arms and legs appeared healed, for the most part. I couldn’t see the one on my shoulder blade without the aid of a mirror, and the one at my waist—I lifted my shirt—looked pink and raw. Despite the twinge of tenderness, it shouldn’t hold me back from doing my job.