One Crossroads Later

Chapter Seven

Although Robin had been there when Flynn woke briefly, he'd left right before sunset. Flynn remembered a moment where Robin's lips had touched his forehead, and his hand swept through Flynn's hair.

"I need to see to something. We can talk more when I get back."

Drowsy him hadn't minded and grunted an agreement. But waking him now felt lonely, opening his eyes to discover an empty bed and the memory of what had happened. The experience had been different, and his mind struggled to make sense of a new normal, if such a thing existed.

One thing I would've asked you, Flynn thought. He sat upright and scanned the room, seeing familiar decorations and Robin's personal effects. A clock ticked on the wall; an artifact from bygone days, but true to Robin's nostalgic sentimentalism. Flynn studied it intently for a moment. Then he climbed out of bed to get dressed.

As tempting as it was to linger in the sanctuary of Robin's room, he stayed dressed enough to walk back to his space. After a shower, and putting on a new set of clothes, he felt less uneasy and more acquainted with the world he knew. It would be enough, he told himself, until Robin could tell him what might be happening.

"I could use something to eat," he said aloud. Avoiding the rest of the coven felt like the smartest idea for the night, at least until Robin returned, and whatever more they needed to talk about could be addressed then. Flynn slipped on his coat, but as he did, a knock sounded at the door.

He froze in place, as if the person on the other side could see him move. Slowly pulling his arm the rest of the way through the sleeve, he smoothed the fabric out and stared at the wooden barrier, realizing he hadn't even locked it. When the person knocked again, the thought that it might be Robin occurred to him. Would he even bother to knock?

"Yes, who is it?" Flynn called, tentatively, toward the door.

When the person on the other side spoke, he winced. "Mistress wants you in her room immediately," Timothy said. "I've been told to bring you to her."

Shit. "Immediately?" he asked, intending to stall. "What could be so urgent?"

"Well, you were supposed to check in with her last night and she said you failed to come in. I think she wants to make sure you don't get lost again on your way to her room."

Flynn glowered. For as little as he liked most of his other immortal brethren, he especially didn't care for Timothy, or how often Timothy seemed attached to Sabrina. He and Rose enjoyed a relationship with her that even Flynn didn't. Which is why he didn't trust him. "How kind," Flynn said, removing his coat. He tossed it onto his bed, smoothing back his hair to gather himself before walking to the door.

When he opened it, Timothy looked at him humorlessly. "Follow me," he said, pointing toward the stairs. Once Flynn had shut his door, Timothy immediately began walking.

"I know how to get there," Flynn said.

"I do what the Mistress tells me to do, and this was her request." Timothy paused at the bottom of the stairs. When he hesitated, Flynn read the implied directive, though Timothy gestured ahead of him, anyway.

The two men exchanged a look. Flynn sighed and walked ahead of Timothy, now effectively trapped.

He couldn't help the way his stomach sank. Looking upward filled him with dread, and though his feet continued forward, a part of his mind wanted to fault the banister and sprint out the main doors. He'll catch you, Flynn thought, and you'll lose any chance of controlling this situation. If Sabrina is influencing you, she'll especially make sure of it then.

Instinctively, Flynn straightened his posture. As they came to the top of the stairs, Flynn didn't wait for Timothy to take the lead again before walking confidently to the door. When he opened it, he found Sabrina in her sitting area, with Rose curled up beside her. A slow grin crept across Sabrina's lips as she and Flynn made eye contact.