Nightwalker

Thirty Eight

Soren

"Martie! Please wait!"

Before I could even blink, she was trotting down my stairs and out my front door.

I knew I'd regret letting her into my room. The most sacred place to me—the place that held a lot about my past.

Suddenly, I was self conscious about what else she
observed besides the spiorad pot.

My books, the designs on my wall—I wondered if she somehow knew every secret I held close to me.

Martie's clever. I didn't want to undermine her intelligence by lying, but I couldn't just let her get away with what she saw.

"It's not like I'm gonna spill your secret, Soren. You don't have to chase me down your front steps."

"No, no you don't understand, Martie, when I say you can't tell anyone, I mean it. It's something that could get me in serious trouble—"

"I've heard you, Soren."

I take a step back.

My face was hot, and my hands felt like I'd dipped them in water.

If the Maighstirean even got a whiff of my feelings towards my guardee, I'd be removed from being her guardian. They strongly believe that biases could cloud our judgement and therefore affect a Warlocks quality of care.

"C-Can you at least let me explain?"

"You're in love with my best friend. There's nothing more to explain."

"Riordan showing up doesn't automatically make my deepest desire to be with her. I have the desire to protect her—to show her more to clairvoyancy."

"Soren, you lie worse than Riordan herself."

I throw my head back and groan.

Martie's gonna talk. She's going to tell her everything.

"Okay, fine! Can you blame me? I've been watching over her for so long—wouldn't you eventually fall for someone you were forced to keep tabs on?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'd leave my damn feelings out of it."

"And I try! I really do...it just sort of...developed over time."

"Ugh."

"Riordan's always been important—but as of late, she's getting stronger. Someone that strong will be a valuable asset to council. The last thing she needs is this information about me—especially when someone else has her attention. Things—-entities can smell her power—they're after her. On top of it, she's—"

"Cursed with the Demark Gene."

I take a step back, confused. "You know about—"

"Oh, I know everything about it."

My throat constricts itself, and I take a seat on my front steps, trying to control my breathing.

She has to be lying. There's no way she knows.

"You—you can't possibly know."

"Marvallia's always said if you want to get ahead of the game, you read some books. Turns out her books proved to be a lot more useful than she let on. Don't worry, I've left it under your bed."

That's the book she was reading at Marv's.

The book she was lost in on my bed.

"Martie, forget the spiorad pot—if you tell Riordan about Daen Demark, she won't ever be the same—she needs to find it out herself—"