Short Stories from the Dark City Chronicles.
Deep in the shadows, a spark of light remains. There are those fighting for justice, freedom, and above all else, love. Not all enemies are evil. Not all friends are trustworthy. And, in the Dark City, al...
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THERE'S A PARTY BELOW. Dignitaries. People of significance. Businessmen. Investments, his brother would say in the hoity tone he's carried these past months since their father died.
Kiernan would rather become acquainted with the plum drapery, pulled close, hushing the wafting sounds of conversation, and feel the chill from the frosted glass of the window seep through his shirt.
He sips the wine he'd stolen before hiding away. He will not attend this atrocious gathering without imbibing.
The drapes are yanked aside and he has an apathetic expression awaiting the deadly glare he anticipates.
His brother does not disappoint, his skin golden under the candles flickering in the chandeliers overhead. He's trimmed his dark hair recently. The curls they share with their mother are nearly gone. Kiernan's touch the tips of his ears.
Dante is feigning proprietary, so he does not entice a quarrel like Kiernan knows his brother is hungering for, grey eyes enraged. He leans closer and whispers severely, "Can you not behave normally for one evening?"
He thinks this over pensively and concludes, "No. I cannot."
"You are a headache."
The words settle and decay in his stomach. He's not normal. He knows this, and his brother knows this. Bringing him to a party and expecting that truth to change is inane.
Because he'd rather stare at a wall than socialize. He'd rather hide under a table than feign a smile. And he'd rather stand behind drapery than witness his brother acting proper.
Dante's expression gentles. "Stay..." He takes hold of the drapery. "I will deal with formalities."
Kiernan blinks at him, coldly. He would have anyway, but he appreciates the sentiment. "How courteous."
"This man—"
"Is affluent, I know," Kiernan finishes, sipping his wine.
The proprietor of this beautifully luxurious home on the waterfront, with fetching housekeepers and uniformed employees, is a mystery. He arrived in the city like a tempest. His wind of endless wealth has quickly purchased most of the businesses in the East district.
