Page 2 of Eternal Devotion

“I know you’re there,” I called.

A slinking shadow emerged from a gap in the greenery and strolled in my direction. His dark coattails blustered in his wake as he approached. With his chin high, black sculpted hair unmoving, and oxblood gaze pinning me in place, a devious grin touched the corners of his mouth, exposing a sharpened canine that caught the light from a distant patio.

Taking in the scenery, he tsked. “What is your fascination with this spot? You always come here.”

“Hello, Cristofer.”

He stopped a few feet away and scanned me head to toe. The mischief painting his features morphed to disgust. “You’re depleted.”

“I’m not.”

“How long has it been?”

“None of your business.”

“I’ll never understand you, Mordecai.”

“I’ve never asked you to try.”

Cristofer eyed a group of passing teens and subtly wet his lips, leaving them glistening with saliva. “How can you stand being so close, especially in your state? My teeth ache, and I fed sixteen hours ago.”

“It’s called self-control. I practice it regularly.”

Cristofer huffed, nose wrinkled. “Sounds terrible.”

“Are you following me?”

“Not by choice. I’ve been ordered to collect you.”

“Why? By whom?”

“Seamus called a meeting on your behalf.”

I didn’t miss Cristofer’s barbed tone. Seamus should not have been the one taking charge, but between my apathy and absence, someone had to. The weight of responsibility was suffocating, and I’d ignored it for the better part of a year.

“We’re gathering at Fairfax in one hour.” My friend’s eyes darkened. He lowered his voice and leaned in. “They have located Iulian.”

A surge of energy rippled over my skin, and I snapped to attention. My darker side and its relentless urges surfaced, and I clenched my fists. “Where?”

“I don’t know, but the time has come to act. Every day Valerius remains in power, he gains allies. His corruption grows with his army. Our people are giving up and joining his fight as we sit back and do nothing. It will be the death of us, Mordecai. Don’t you see? Don’t you care?”

“Of course I do.”

“Pah.” Cristofer cut the air with a swipe of his hand and paced to the edge of the concrete walkway. “You don’t, or you would have been actively involved these past few months. Well, you can’t cower now.”

I let his anger simmer before moving in beside him.

“They talk about you,” he continued, tone softer. “Your complacency. Your complete disregard for our perils. They say you’ve given up.”

“I haven’t. I wasn’t made for—”

“Stop with the excuses. You are who you are, and it’s time you make peace with it.”

I stared at the city on the other side of the Thames, hypnotized by its high-rises and pulsing with energy, longing for something I could never have.

“You’re coming.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course I’m coming.”