Taking Light {Sequel: "For Love of Evil"}

-15-

Lyra stood in front of the refrigerator, staring at the reddish pink goo on the top shelf. She wondered what it tasted like. Roman had little complaints about the substance, but wondered if there was any difference between the gunk in the fridge and the blood of a human.

She grabbed a bottle of water, making her way toward the living room. She wondered what Roman was up to; if he was innocently having drinks or doing something else.

Lyra trusted that Roman would never cheat, but the thoughts stilled remained. The only thing that truly gave Lyra comfort was knowing that Peter was with him. She knew he'd keep Roman in line if the opportunity arose. Monogamy was effortless for Lyra—now that she knew what had caused her senses to dwindle.

The doorbell rang, causing Lyra to stop dead in her tracks. She remained still—unmoving as she wondered who was standing on the other side of the door.

She thought of the story of Bluebeard; the widow giving his new wife keys to all the chambers in his palace, but requesting that if she loved him, she would never open one particular door. Her husband leaves—curiosity gets the best of his new bride and she finds herself unlocking the chamber he had warned her stay away from. There, she finds the bodies of his former dead wives. The story had always brought a rather dark meaning to the phrase, "curiosity killed the cat."

Lyra thought about opening the door, wondering if it was someone she could easily get rid of. Her heart felt like it skipped a beat when realizing that she had failed to do what Roman had told her to—to lock the door. She wondered if the person ringing the doorbell would try to come in.

She heard the door open; then the sound of footsteps. She stood perplexed, unseen from the other side of the divider—the only wall in the open house that separated her from it.

Roman stepped around the corner; his brows furrowed with his lips full looking to Lyra in disappointment.

"I told you to lock the door." Roman spat. Lyra sighed in relief, rolling her eyes at him.

"Why did you ring the doorbell?" Lyra pressed, trying to make her side of the argument.

"To see if you'd answer." Roman slinked out of his blazer, draping it on the back of the couch.

Peter stepped into view; behind him an attractive young woman with dark curly hair and almond shaped eyes. Lyra felt a pang of jealousy, knowing Roman had spent his night with not only Peter, but with the pretty woman who stood behind him.

"If this is your way of initiating a four-way, It's not happening." Lyra spoke only to Roman, ignoring Peter and the dark haired beauty.

Roman's brows meshed together, creating a wrinkle above his nose. He looked at Lyra, then back at Peter with a laugh. "That's Destiny, and I'm pretty sure she'd rather die than to fuck me." Roman placed his hands on Lyra's shoulders, turning to face their guests.

"Your boyfriend's right, I'd rather cut my arm off than to sleep with him." Destiny tucked her hands away in her leather jacket, whipping her head to the side slightly to move a curl away from her eye.

"So you're the psychic." Lyra smiled, glancing between Peter and Destiny.

"Oh, so you did tell her." Destiny pursed her lips, looking over at Peter with a smirk.

"So, you can help us?" Lyra questioned. She saw Destiny's eyes fall, as if she had been dragged into the mess against her will.

"I'm not sure yet." Destiny admitted, rocking back on her heels. "You mind if we sit at the table?"

"Not at all." Lyra guided Destiny to the dining room, pulling out two chairs—one for herself and the other for her unexpected company. She sat down, watching Destiny take a seat.