BOOK 4 of the ORPHIC Series
DISENTHRALL
/ˌdisənˈTHrôl/
set free.
~~~~~
When Lucille 'Lucy' Opal Baker starts adjusting to a world without Captain America and more government therapy sessions...
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"What troubles darken the glimmer in your eyes?"
Cairo, Egypt January, 2025
LUCY DREW A LONG BREATH, inhaling deeply as she cleared her mind. She focused on the candlelight of souls, flicking all around them. Fires waned and dissipated, new fires lit at the same time. It was interesting to see them– the amount of people circling the area, living and dying, surviving as they went about their day. It was always eye opening, but Lucy wasn't here just to enjoy the semi-view of the dead she could access.
"Shut up." A voice murmured, quiet, so quiet that Lucy almost didn't hear him.
The souls flicked away from her vision and she opened her eyes, frustrated. She couldn't be disturbed when she focused on both the view of the land of the living and the dead. Usually it was easier— she had tracked Karli down in an instant, had done the same with Xialing once she took the time to focus. But this was different; far too difficult then before, because Harrow's soul was concealed, hidden.
She needed total concentration, especially when she could not feel his existence anywhere.
Marc had a bottle of beer in his hand, his eyes focused on the shattered mirror next to him. Whatever or whoever he was looking at must've been annoying the living shit out of him. Because he had been silent for ten minutes before his resolve broke and his voice murmured to sharp words.
Lucy sighed as she uncrossed her legs, standing to her feet.
She felt Khonshu's eyes on her as she stepped in front of Marc. His eyes were bloodshot as he looked up at her, taking another long sip of beer. She looked at him, then at the mirror. The cracked fragments did nothing to hide his reflection, or the tantrum he had while she was out getting food.
"Who is it?" She asked, turning her eyes to Marc. "Steven Grant? Jake Lockley?"
Marc stiffened, the bottle in his hand slowly moving to sit on the ground. He gazed at her with a suspicious look, and Lucy couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. Not only did he look pathetic from where she stood, but it also made her realize how stupid he could be.
She inspected Marc, before waving her hand, removing the bottle of beer from existence. She crouched in front of him, before turning her head to face the mirror.
"It feels more like Steven Grant." She decided, his soul more scared than angry. "I bet he's a nice guy."
