confidence.
Dylan had laid out the pages over his old desk in ReVamp’s back office, where she probably figured he’d be most comfortable. Considering Ruan hadn’t been back to work in a month, her instincts were off base. He could cut the tension between them with the blade on his belt.
She backed away from his shoulder, giving him much-needed breathing room to examine the remainder of the writing. Good thing, too. The pressure in the room was making his mind crawl.
“Slade and I have been working on deciphering the scrolls for weeks. I did some research on reading them, and I know the top and bottom references, here,” Dylan said, turning to the bottom scroll and tapping her finger over the two parts, “are related. But as long as we don’t know what that jumble of letters means, we can’t make sense of when or where that passage is going to happen. The rest of the scrolls are written in Valcish and might as well be destroyed, for all the good that does us. That’s where we could really use your insight.”
She was treading lightly, trying not to demand his help. Even though her intentions were transparent, Ruan appreciated the gesture. He eyed the letters carefully:
gtw drh sos aiv xkqgal—jzvv gyvumww sycoxhb kcmv hki wpxc bwijqg chdwex . . . lnm gqi lc evv toj jx bzpp gvpqnifaxp lby wdtoaxg sqwppgcujvw qxl hts fezu etu.
His eyes naturally scanned to the top of the page. To the passage reading, place of horror, time will come, elders will fall, all will succumb.
“We need you to help with as much as you can,” she continued. “Especially the part that’s in your handwriting.”
Ruan took a deep breath and chastised himself for agreeing to come here and look over these old scraps of paper. Why would the scrolls be in his handwriting? He’d never held the pages in his hands before. At least not that he could remember. And he sure as hell wouldn’t have helped write them. Yet here he was. Staring at ancient scrolls, scrawled in his own slanted hand.
“Can you make out anything, Ruan, or are we wasting time here?” Slade leaned against the far wall that had been repainted a hideous shade of dried-blood brown. Ruan never would’ve let that color choice slide. Then again, since he’d left, Slade had been allowed to do whatever the hell he wanted with ReVamp. “You’ve had enough time to come to a conclusion. How ‘bout you loosen up and tell us what you’re thinking.”
Ruan eyed Slade carefully from his Docs to his leather pants. From his trench coat to the weapons around his belt. Shifter hadn’t changed much in a month. He was cockier, though, if that was possible, with his chin held higher than normal and a fuck-you frown on his mouth. Ruan figured Slade’s unwavering confidence had everything to do with the fact that only a month ago, Ruan thought he was madly in love with Dylan. Caused quite the friction between him and the therian-turned-vamp.
In the end, though, Dylan had chosen Slade over him as her life partner. Good choice, too, seeing as Ruan would’ve dumped Dylan like yesterday’s news once he set his eyes on Eve.
It’s not that Dylan wasn’t beautiful—she was drop-dead gorgeous, with glowing amber curls and wide, sky-blue eyes. And it’s not because she wasn’t smart and couldn’t challenge him like he needed—her IQ was probably higher than any vamp within a hundred-mile radius.
It’s just that once he met Eve, and caught sight of something familiar behind her eyes, he knew in his heart that there was no other woman for him. A part of him—a lonely part deep inside his soul—sparked to life. It was like he’d been dead before meeting her. A walking shadow. A burnt-out bulb. Though there was no way he could’ve known it. Every other woman he’d met in his life paled in comparison. Her brilliance had bewitched his soul from the start. There could be no other match for him. Ever.
“You’ve gotta be able to give us something.” Slade stalked over, and
Dylan had laid out the pages over his old desk in ReVamp’s back office, where she probably figured he’d be most comfortable. Considering Ruan hadn’t been back to work in a month, her instincts were off base. He could cut the tension between them with the blade on his belt.
She backed away from his shoulder, giving him much-needed breathing room to examine the remainder of the writing. Good thing, too. The pressure in the room was making his mind crawl.
“Slade and I have been working on deciphering the scrolls for weeks. I did some research on reading them, and I know the top and bottom references, here,” Dylan said, turning to the bottom scroll and tapping her finger over the two parts, “are related. But as long as we don’t know what that jumble of letters means, we can’t make sense of when or where that passage is going to happen. The rest of the scrolls are written in Valcish and might as well be destroyed, for all the good that does us. That’s where we could really use your insight.”
She was treading lightly, trying not to demand his help. Even though her intentions were transparent, Ruan appreciated the gesture. He eyed the letters carefully:
gtw drh sos aiv xkqgal—jzvv gyvumww sycoxhb kcmv hki wpxc bwijqg chdwex . . . lnm gqi lc evv toj jx bzpp gvpqnifaxp lby wdtoaxg sqwppgcujvw qxl hts fezu etu.
His eyes naturally scanned to the top of the page. To the passage reading, place of horror, time will come, elders will fall, all will succumb.
“We need you to help with as much as you can,” she continued. “Especially the part that’s in your handwriting.”
Ruan took a deep breath and chastised himself for agreeing to come here and look over these old scraps of paper. Why would the scrolls be in his handwriting? He’d never held the pages in his hands before. At least not that he could remember. And he sure as hell wouldn’t have helped write them. Yet here he was. Staring at ancient scrolls, scrawled in his own slanted hand.
“Can you make out anything, Ruan, or are we wasting time here?” Slade leaned against the far wall that had been repainted a hideous shade of dried-blood brown. Ruan never would’ve let that color choice slide. Then again, since he’d left, Slade had been allowed to do whatever the hell he wanted with ReVamp. “You’ve had enough time to come to a conclusion. How ‘bout you loosen up and tell us what you’re thinking.”
Ruan eyed Slade carefully from his Docs to his leather pants. From his trench coat to the weapons around his belt. Shifter hadn’t changed much in a month. He was cockier, though, if that was possible, with his chin held higher than normal and a fuck-you frown on his mouth. Ruan figured Slade’s unwavering confidence had everything to do with the fact that only a month ago, Ruan thought he was madly in love with Dylan. Caused quite the friction between him and the therian-turned-vamp.
In the end, though, Dylan had chosen Slade over him as her life partner. Good choice, too, seeing as Ruan would’ve dumped Dylan like yesterday’s news once he set his eyes on Eve.
It’s not that Dylan wasn’t beautiful—she was drop-dead gorgeous, with glowing amber curls and wide, sky-blue eyes. And it’s not because she wasn’t smart and couldn’t challenge him like he needed—her IQ was probably higher than any vamp within a hundred-mile radius.
It’s just that once he met Eve, and caught sight of something familiar behind her eyes, he knew in his heart that there was no other woman for him. A part of him—a lonely part deep inside his soul—sparked to life. It was like he’d been dead before meeting her. A walking shadow. A burnt-out bulb. Though there was no way he could’ve known it. Every other woman he’d met in his life paled in comparison. Her brilliance had bewitched his soul from the start. There could be no other match for him. Ever.
“You’ve gotta be able to give us something.” Slade stalked over, and
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