The Dark City Chronicles ⁓ Book Three
The apocalypse looms ever closer! Steamy romance, heart-stopping action, seductive vampires, magic that defies nature, sprinkles of dark-humor, and, as always, the everlasting bonds of friendship.
Hannah's strug...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I know your name."
From the other end of the table, past open tomes and scattered papers, the mage who'd been giving him grief for the last hour glared.
That shut him up about how unversed Kane was in magic.
Admittedly, Valrus had been an asset after Kane let Hannah talk him into allowing the spirit to help. Valrus researched quickly and spat out more bullshit about magic than Milton. But there was a downside: Valrus was an annoying know-it-all who loved to go on long tangents. Even more than Dad, which was a feat.
"Yeah," Kane said smugly. "Dad found you."
"No." The orange light of the lamp brought to the table's edge, with its wire lying across the kitchen floor, shone in the creepy silver of Valrus's gaze. "The voices your vampire converses with told him, and he told you."
"No, we found a book about dark mages. You've been doing that shit for years. Forbidden magic for fucking breakfast, huh? Dad's freaked and thinks you're major trouble. Not me." Kane leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're just a boy who is afraid of being weak and stole his power."
"Underestimate me," Valrus snarled. "I dare you."
Kane shrugged. "I know who you are now—a failed mage who had power for a short time. They burned your body, you know, after you died, said so in that book. There's nothing left of you."
The forlorn expression on Valrus's face almost made Kane feel guilty. Almost. He pretended to focus on flipping through a tome on spells specific to vampires.
After a lengthy silence, Kane's gaze flickered up. "Why do you choose to be called Valrus?"
"It's my last name."
"It's stupid."
Valrus blinked rapidly. "Fuck you."
The deadpan tone coaxed a reluctant chuckle from Kane. "It sounds like Walrus," he muttered and couldn't resist smiling at the throaty noise Valrus made.
Valrus always acted so offendedly. It was as if he never had anyone dare to tell him off or make fun of him. Every reaction he gave was genuine—it was hilarious. The spirit was lucky only mages could see him, or Reid's bullshit would've annihilated the guy in less than a day.
He flipped a page. The spell depicted would make a vampire lethargic. So, what? Mild symptoms, it read. This was useless. It all had been. Dead end after dead end.
"Your first name's better," Kane said absently.
"No."
Kane looked up, frowning. "Why not?"
"I prefer my last name."
"And I prefer Kane, but you keep calling me Evan."
