"What's a pretty thing like you doing here by yourself in the middle of London?" Aralt wondered. It was the first time Syrina had heard him speak. The cool undertone of his voice sent shivers down her spine. "Are you meeting someone? Who, may I ask, would you be meeting?"
Aralt was eagerly waiting for her answer. He crossed his arms and squared his shoulders, obviously implying that he wasn't going to budge unless she answered him. She glanced back at Talon for reassurance. She had slightly hoped that he felt the urgency in his brother's voice as well. Talon stiffened for a moment, but withdrew it almost instantly. This gave Syrina a sense of uncertainty but proceeded to answer Aralt's questions anyway.
She hesitated, "Of course I'm alone! I um...I just enjoy walking the Thames. It's very calming." She looked at Talon again. He seemed to notice her uneasiness, and gave his brother a harsh look.
Aralt disregarded Talon and stepped a few inches closer to Syrina; they were now only a hair's breadth away from each other. He stared into her eyes frantically. He looked as if he were searching for something. Syrina grew suddenly frightened, and back away slightly.
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"Aralt," Talon breathed. Syrina had received a phone call and wandered off a few feet away. "What was that about? What's gotten into you?"
The two looked over at Syrina, who was still deeply engaged in her phone conversation. She looked upset, Talon thought, before turning his attention back to Aralt.
Aralt looked at his brother, then to Syrina, and grimaced, "What's gotten into ME, Brother?" He threw his arms up in defeat. "Have you forgotten? I FEEL all the nonsense that courses through you! My chest is beating at lightening speed, and frankly... I'm not too keen on this school-boy puppy love crap of yours."
Talon's eyes grew soft as he suddenly remembered. Aralt felt everything that Talon did, and vice versa. A few moments ago, Talon felt his emotions go ablaze. He felt hatred for a complete two minutes toward Syrina and he hadn't known why. He realized, then, that it had been Aralt's emotions that transferred through him. Beaumont's spell had still been active. Of course it was active... It had been for seven years. Now, Aralt was feeling everything that Talon felt for Syrina.
"I feel it, Talon," Aralt sighed. His voice softened to almost a whisper. "I feel your emotions go into overdrive every time that girl looks at you."
It had only been a few minutes since he met her, but Talon already felt lost in Syrina's grasp. This didn't happen to him often, which is why Aralt felt cautious as well, but there was also an underlying reason why Aralt was on edge toward Syrina.
"What if she's dangerous, Talon?" Aralt asked. He knew his brother had feared this question. He could feel it. Talon bent his head in defeat as Aralt spoke again. The harshness of his brother's voice made Talon feel as if a million tiny daggers were being seared through his chest. "What if she's connected to Beaumont?" Aralt whispered. He felt the bile in his mouth as he spoke the name.
