your father was a priest

Ezekiel de le Poer · 03-08-2011, 06:50 PM

[html]

+3

The girl’s eyes were the color of the sun, and that single fact confirmed Ezekiel’s thoughts.

He listened to the woman speak, a part of him pleased in the way she did so. It was not her tone, not her voice itself, but the way she used words that reminded him of Cwmfen and even Tristan. None of the Inferni members he had met spoke eloquently, using simple words and simple phrases that displayed to Ezekiel his sister was right. By living alone in the wilderness he had become separated from them. Such thoughts would never be confirmed behind his ivory smile, a Cheshire mask he had long ago learned was far more terrible than any snarl.

His palm did not leave the horses nose, and the other hand did not rise from where it rested on his thigh. It was apparent to him she feared for the children, though until the third child (who did not resemble any of the party assembled) landed on earth he did not understand why.

Something within him twisted at the accusation, seeing the face of another girl he had once stolen from home.

To add to this, his father was ignorant of their existence. Ezekiel wondered what Gabriel would do if he knew—certainly not come for them, after sending his own children away so young. There was no war now, but Inferni brought with it a stigma. With the death of that boy, Ezekiel knew that tension would bar the children from being brought back. Neither of them resembled coyotes. He would have called them dogs if she had not told him otherwise.

“I did not come for your children,” he explained, keeping his eyes on her. “And I will not take them from you.” Not again. Siobhan had proved to him that saving something did not mean it would love you. She had wounded him more deeply then he wished to admit. “Besides,” he went on, eyes turning impish. “My bag is full enough of ghosts; I have no room for fuzzballs.”

Login




Remember me Lost Password?