Page 129 of Veil of Blood and Bone

I wince.

“Apparently some things remain behind,” Forest insists.

“Yes, the agony.”

A shudder has me gripping the side of the countertop to keep steady.

What would it be like to survive, year after year, with nothing but a sourceless ache in your soul? To endure the distress that comes from a broken heart but never receive any relief?

It’s unimaginable.

“Are any of you hungry?”

The shelves inside the fridge are empty. And without income coming in, and me still having to get my last check from Barnes somehow, food shopping is out of the question.

The bookstore is going to be out of commission for the next week until he finds someone to get the crater in the front fixed. The ropes around me tighten further.

“We’re fine, monster.” Wren is the only one to answer me. “Thank you.”

If any of them mark my strangled sigh of relief, they ignore it.

The second the machine clicks off, I bring the entire pot and a beaded heat protector over to the table. I set it in the middle, forcing Forest to drag his wine down to his lap.

Multiple mismatched mugs follow along with the last of the milk and a container of sugar stuck in chunks.

The three of them are a unit, it’s obvious. They are as different as dark and light. They shouldn’t all go together but they somehow do. Their connection is written in their past and the lines of their faces. None of them would ever pass for older than thirty at the most.

My fingers itch to grab a rune from the bag and see what kind of message appears in the stones. To see if this is a fluke, a misdirection, or if I’m better off running away.

There’s nowhere for me to go, though. The car won’t make it through the snow, not with bald tires. And I can’t leave Audra behind when we’ve finally gotten her disease under some semblance of control.

Wren thickens his shadows and seats himself, patting his lap to offer his body as a seat. “Stop skulking and sit with us, monster.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine here. As long as I’ve got coffee I’m good to go.”

I lean against the cool expanse of counter, clutching a mug of my own. Wren arches a brow at my defiance.

After what happened with us the other night⁠—

“Carry on. It’s clear you guys have information to share.” I can’t look at him. “I’m here for it. This is some magical quest along a trail of breadcrumbs.”

Why am I still here, entertaining this? Why am I willing to hear them out, and worse, trust them?

“I went to The Fenlight in Boston,” Nicholas grinds out. His voice is rougher during the late hours. Or when he’s aroused. “The gods are stirring. Freyja and Loki are on the board now, if certain parties are to be believed.”

“You think it has something to do with Odin sending the servants of Kari into action?” Forest presses.

“I think word is reaching every branch on the tree. Things are moving faster now.” Wren taps his fingers on the table.

Everyone ignores my coffee.

My cup is a lifeline, and the pit in my stomach opens wider.

“No one could shed any light on Audra’s visions or why, this time...the Norns are speaking through her directly.” Nicholas angles his head away from the window, his hand crushing ceramic unconsciously.

His black eyes find mine. Again, the thought. Run. Wren’s shadows bite deeper like they sense it.

I sit up straighter. “Hold on. It’s never happened before? I thought those journals were full of revelations she’s had?”