Raven walked down the sidewalk. He kept his mind and his ears open, waiting and listening for Ambrose or Robin to call out to him. If they needed him, he would run to them. No matter what.
He made his way through the crowds, through a regular beef stew of conversation snippets in unfamiliar voices:
“…need to sew…”
“…Mountain Dew and Diet Coke…”
“…but, of course, the mega-slut said…”
“…German studies about dragons show that…”
Raven stopped short at that last one. He scanned the crowd, sniffing the air for Robin’s familiar scent. But it wasn’t there. No trace of it at all. He mentally called out to Robin.
There was no response. Not even any sort of acknowledgement.
Raven frowned as he thought about what Ambrose had said about that phone call. A deeply unsettling feeling plagued his nerves.
If Queen Preyuna is behind this as Ambrose suspects, what does she hope to accomplish? Perhaps it is a random prank and nothing more. Yet, I cannot believe that the queen of the fey would stoop to such a childish prank without some reasoning behind it.
There is something more. I am sure of it. Something sinister.
And it bodes poorly for Robin and Isellta.
Ambrose watched Barbara’s expression as she pulled out of the driveway. He couldn’t help smiling.
She looks so serious. So focused.
I love that so much.
I love her so much.
Barbara left the driveway and headed down the road.
Ambrose played with the loose strands of her hair, twirling it around his finger.
She smiled but kept her focus on the road.
He kissed the strands and whispered sweet, sultry words in her mind. She blushed, which only made him happier.
He edged his way out of her mind and projected Robin’s name as far as he could.
Robin? Can you hear me? How are things going with you and Isellta? Are you being good to him? Are you as happy with him as I am with Barbara? I hope so.
He thought about all of the nights that Robin spent crying for Isellta. His heart ached for the younger vampire.
If anyone deserves to be happy, it would be you and Isellta. Especially after all of this time you two have been apart.
Ambrose’s mind tracked back to that phone call.
Barbara stopped at a red light. “You’re being quiet.” She turned in her seat to face him better. “What’s wrong?”
“Thinking.” He scoffed. “Although, worrying is more like it. I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong about that phone call. Maybe it really was Robin. Maybe…ah! I don’t know. I just don’t know.” He let go of her hair. “Barbara, if that call wasn’t from Robin…If Preyuna made that call, pretending to be him…Why? Why would she do that?”
Barbara’s expression turned serious. “Well. I guess…It would be because she wants us to believe that he’s safe.”
“Why?” Even as he asked it, he knew the possible answer. “Because Robin is her prisoner.”
Ambrose frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. I mean, it makes sense, but not for her. Fey queens are notorious for how particular they are about their harem members. They only want the most handsome or the most beautiful men available. Robin isn’t a rotted corpse, but he has a scar marring his face. She would hold that as a mark against him.”
“Well, we could always go over there and find out for ourselves.” Barbara said.