Darkly Devoted (Book 1, 2, 3)

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

THE CAR DROPPED stopped by the library in the heart of Manna City. Vivienne had forgotten how much she used to love the steps of the library. There was a grandeur about the wide marble steps accompanied by guardian lions that made her feel like a princess of the wilderness.

Allison handed Vivienne an object wrapped in red velvet. "This is for you. In case you need it."

Vivienne didn't like the heavy feeling of the wad of velvet in her hand. As she unwrapped it, she liked it less and less. It was a pistol.

"It's not loaded with bullets," Lady Maglania replied, wearily. "It will shoot a dart made with Segais wood. It's harmless to humans but can bring down a demon. My guards will be close by but keep this close for protection."

"You want me to talk to him face to face?" Vivienne asked, swallowing hard. She imagined that giving Lady Maglania a name would be enough. She never imagined that she would have to face Blake in person. Lady Maglania must have noticed her reluctance because she reached out and patted Vivienne's hand.

"I'll be close by. Don't worry; we won't let him harm you."

"How am I supposed to find him?" Vivienne asked as Maglania's host opened the car door for her.

"Find him?" Allison asked with a roll of her eyes. That was the expression Allison used to make when a girl came to school wearing purple tights with pink sweatshirts. "He's been with you all along."

"What?"

Allison gestured to a dark green car that slowly drifted to a park about a block behind them. The car cut its headlights as Vivienne's eyes lingered it for a second too long.

"His driver has been following you the entire time you were in Cosel. Say hello to him for me. His name is Glenn Winick."

Vivienne gathered up her things and exited the car. Vivienne's mind swirled with terrifying ideas of what that metal pistol tucked under her jacket was capable of. She had never shot a gun before. Somehow, all of the possible scenarios ended with her head rolling on the floor like Wisteria's. Cars sped by under the grey sky. None of them slowed down in front of the library.

There was no hauling down a cab and escaping from all this. She had to face the beast head on. Vivienne tapped on the tinted window of the forest green car that had been trailing them. There was a young man with olive-eyes and a kind face sitting in the front seat. Upon seeing Vivienne peering into his window, he almost jumped out of his skin.

"Wha-What are you doing here?"

"You've been following me, Mr. Winick," Vivienne stated. The young man quickly hid the sandwich that he had been half-eating had been sitting on the seat beside him and piled newspapers over it. He vigorously wiped the crumbs off his brown suit before jumping out of the driver seat.

"Forgive me for my rudeness. He told me not to let you see me. I-I didn't know it was so obvious that I was trailing you." Glenn stood before her looking as though he wasn't sure what to do next. Vivienne gestured to the back seat. Glenn jumped to attention and immediately reached for the door to let her in. "I'm so very s-sorry. Where are you heading to, Miss Minthe?"

"Miss Weisse," Vivienne corrected. "Blake doesn't know I'm here. Can you contact him? I want to speak to him."

"Sure!" Glenn exclaimed and whipped out his cell phone. Vivienne noticed he had several different phones. "You want to speak with him, right now? As in this minute?"

"Yes. Why? Is that a problem?"

"I think he's in a meeting," Glenn whispered fearfully. "With the president of Sylvirua."

Vivienne rolled her eyes. She didn't care at that moment if Blake were in a meeting with the devil himself. Her courage was only going to take her so far. She needed to do this now.

"Give me your phone. I'll text him. Then he can't blame you." Vivienne barked. Glenn handed her his phone and Vivienne typed a quick message.

""Hey, Blake," the message began. "It's me, your Orlin. Meet me at the library. I'm scared. Please, come now. I have nowhere else to go."

Her finger felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds as Vivienne reluctantly pressed send. Was this really the only way out?

There was no running anymore.

As Allison said, one of them must die that night. Vivienne was still trying to hold onto the memory of his arms wrapped around her in the sunlight, the sight of the arch of his nose and his slightly parted lips from where she laid beside him. There was the memory of his beating heart under his grass-stained dress shirt that smelled vaguely of candle wax. She remembered whispering to him once that he had a rather distinguished nose. To which he laughed and told her not to mock him; he said knew he would never be considered handsome. How wrong he was; he had grown up into a dashingly gorgeous monster.

She had to take those memories and burn them. The second phase of letting go was accepting that all those bright shiny memories needed to be placed in wood caskets and buried in the dark depths of one's unconsciousness. It was too much for such a short period of time. Vivienne wasn't ready to see Blake again, especially not now.

The message that came in response was a short one. It said simply — "Come to pier. I'll be there."