❝Your secret is a painting?❞ I took a few cautious steps; the hairs on my arms stood on end.
❝Not just any painting.❞ Dorian approached the easel, shadows on his face as he touched the cloth protecting it. ❝It's a dark object, the manifestation of m...
I burst through the doors of the Maison de Champagne, startling an old woman in a fur mink. The Maison was not my scene. But as the most expensive and luxurious hotel in town, it most certainly was Dorian's. Speeding across the shiny marble flooring, I headed for the ornate front desk, banging the bell over and over until a disgruntled employee made his entrance.
"May I help you?"
"Yes, I need the room number for Dorian Darkwater."
"Ma'am, we can't just give out that sort of information--"
"Look..." I glanced at his nametag. "Aidan, I can't explain why this is so important--you wouldn't believe me if I did. But for every second of every minute that I stand here begging you to help me, a friend of mine is drowning. He's dying--and I have to help him. Do you know what that's like? Watching someone you love suffer, and not being able to save them?"
Aidan stood there, lips twisting as he wrestled with his conscience. He sighed.
"One of these days I'm going to get fired. Just wait a sec." He shuffled to his computer and I followed, bouncing on the balls of my feet, tapping the desk with impatience as he looked up the necessary information.
The computer beeped; Aidan made a face that quite clearly said "oops."
"He's... checked out."
"What? No." I shook my head. "That's not possible. He wouldn't. He couldn't."
"He did. I'm sorry, he left about an hour ago."
"Damnit-damnit-damnit!" I dragged my fingers through my hair, trying to think. "Maybe you saw him on his way out? He's tall, blonde, snooty--wears tailored suits."
"Yeah, actually." Aidan nodded. "He never tips."
"Of course not. Did he say where he was going?"
"As a matter of fact, yeah. He said... everywhere."
My heart sank into shoes. So he was on the run. Everything he said, about staying, rebuilding the gallery, and stopping Elijah - it was all a lie.
"Says in the notes that he left you something."
"H-he did?"
Aidan turned to the long row of mail slots behind him, searching for the right cubby. He returned when he found what he was looking for, sliding a white envelope across the desk.
"I really hope you find what you're looking for," he said.
Shaking with rage, I picked up the letter and crumpled it in my fist.
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Sitting in my car, in the hotel's parking lot, I sobbed as I read the letter, tears staining the stationary. Dark Dorian told me he was sorry, that he loved me, and he was never coming back. If he could feel when I kissed his twin, then I knew he could feel the agony of what Elijah had sentenced him to. Could I really blame him for skipping town, knowing what lay in store for him if he stayed too?
