Chapter 18

Ezra and I stayed quiet the rest of the night. He respected me, and my personal emotions, by returning to bed and sleeping on the right side- far away from me. It took me longer to fall asleep than it did Ezra, and my brain had to adjust to his low breaths and soft mumblings before I was close to being tired.

The red curtains, that framed the large windows, were shut to close off any straying light outside: but even the moon displayed a small line across the room. The dim light cut just below my kneecap, and it seemed to fade out very slowly.

"Eris."

Maybe I was too tired to believe the sound of the voice, but I know I had heard something. I turn and give Ezra's sleeping form a questionable look. He had his eyes shut and his white hair still combed upward from earlier, but I was just now seeing he forgot a shirt.

"Eris, come outside for a moment."

The dim line that had divided the room earlier was gone, and my stomach clenched. I didn't want to go outside, but I was very tempted to see what exactly was going on. I could be dealing with a telepath, and I would not forgive myself for
not perfecting my telepathic communication earlier.

"Eris, I just want to talk..."

I don't move, finally feeling what true fear was. A 'Dead King' is after me and some voice wants me to go outside? I'm not some random chick that could be fooled so easily: I'm not all-for those predictable scary movies. But I am one of the most powerful witches of my time. What do I have to fear?

I slide my feet from the white covers, and hope I wasn't making too much noise; it would be hard to explain why I was getting out of bed so early with no food or real TV in the room. Taking another second to get the rest of my body from the covers I slip toward the large windows with the long red curtains over them. Finding it easier to press my body against the glass and not disturb the curtains, my fingers unlatch one of the over-sized windows and slip through.

I didn't think the balcony could actually be used. I had thought it was one of those commercial ones that were more for show than anything else, but it seemed to be keeping my weight up fine: and only my weight.

Was I really so tired that I dreamt up some voice in my head? Was that considered even a little normal?

"Lock the window behind you and we can talk."

Pursing my lips and crossing my arms over my chest I shut the window gracefully: with my mind. It clicks and as soon as that happens a small section of the air shimmers before me. Quickly, my feet react and step away an as far as possible.

"Good to see you again." He states.

I gulp, and try not to recuperate bad memories from a couple
nights ago when that girl, Olive, had said the man was looking for me. "You're LB."

"Yes, in full: Laurence Bourget. But you can call me Laurence if you will it."

'If I will it' who does this guy think he is exactly?

"Why are you here?"

His form was only an inch or so taller than my own, which is small considering how short I am. His equally green eyes and tanned skin make him seem vacant in the dark night. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Talk? About what?"

"I wanted to know something..."

"What is it?"

His face scrunches up, and I am reminded if the night I met him: when he bent over and couldn't help himself to laugh aloud. "Who is your father?"

All was silent: the soft lulling waves and chilling breeze. Everything became stale and unmoving. I wanted to answer him: the dangerously gorgeous man before me, but I stopped myself. He didn't need to know anything about my personal life; he was a stranger to me. "Why do you want to know?"

He smirks. "No reason. I was curious as to...where he is."

"It's none of your business."

He nodded, trying to be menacing, and took a long step toward me. I was scrunched up in the corner of the balcony, the palm of my hands slapped against the cold marble railing. "I agree. Maybe it isn't my business as of right now."

I sneered at him, which caused me to sneeze without any direction.

My first thought was: Ezra's going to wake up, there is no way he did not hear me. My second thought was: why is Laurence so comfortable around me at this very moment? I don't know him, and he doesn't know me.

"Ezra..." I start to warn him, but I had dropped what I was saying to listen to him.

"...a lot like your father." he states.

"What?"

He lifts up the corners of his mouth, like a puppet forced to smile, and leans in toward me. His face was merely inches from mine and I bargained that my stomach would surely puke. "What's wrong?"

I glared at him, but realized I couldn't slip away: he had his hands locked at my sides.

"I can feel your pulse rising, are you scared?" He whispers to me, and his cold breath smacks me into attention.

"I don't even know you."

"Yes you do." he brings his hands to my waist and I squirm a little bit: trying to get away.

"That's a lie."

"It's the truth." he squeezed me harder and my body was nailed to the railing behind me. "I knew you before your birth. And get this: I even got to name you."

"Let me go."

"Your father and I were the best of pales way back when."

"Stop it."

He leaned in to my right ear, his soft breaths reaching down my spine: "Until he cast me away."

I mentally curse myself: magic was useless against him.

He brought his face back so he was looking into my own eyes, "I wonder."

His eyes narrowed, and I was unable to move any part of my body, Laurence just closed his eyes and tilted his head a little to my left. But soon after, he disappeared into the darkness of clashing waves.