Consecrated With Blood by Marianne Lowe

Author:Marianne Lowe [Marianne Lowe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Marianne Lowe
Published: 2020-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

7

Chapter 7

Will rolled over to slap his alarm off and hit empty pillow instead. He spent a moment blinking at the dented pillowcase, disoriented and fuzzy, before recovering enough of his senses to crawl over to the other side of the bed and shut the alarm off properly. The sheets reeked of sweat and sex and nightmares. He spent another few moments lying there on his stomach before he smelled coffee.

Dear God: Thank You for yet another blessed morning, and thank You for coffee. Thank You for light, and love, and dogs, and all good things in this world. Now, if You could do something about these headaches? Also, I’m afraid I might be running a fever, and if You could stave off any impending illness until after Christmas, that is the only miracle I will ask for, Lord.

Will rolled out of bed. He swallowed two aspirin in the bathroom before descending the stairs.

Christopher had the back door open, though for the most part the dogs stuck to the kitchen, sniffing the floor around Christopher’s bare feet in perpetual optimism. Christopher was at the stove in his pajama bottoms and—wonder of wonders—a dark blue t-shirt, moving a spatula around one of Will’s frying pans. He was unshaven, his hair still wet, and he looked ferociously attractive.

“Good morning,” Will mumbled on his way to the coffee pot.

“Good morning,” Christopher replied, without looking up from the pan.

Will poured himself a mug of coffee, and then, seeing that Christopher did not appear to have one, another one for Christopher. He fed the dogs. By the time he returned, Christopher had made them two plates of toast and scrambled eggs. Will found them knives and forks.

These scrambled eggs were like nothing Will had ever seen, a uniform pale gold in color and so soft he thought he might need a spoon. They were creamy and rich beyond butter; Will almost choked on the first bite. “What the hell did you do to these eggs?!”

“Cooked at a low temperature,” Christopher said with a smile. “Good scrambled eggs take time. Also a bit of half and half, whisked in.”

“Jesus.” Will forced himself to eat at a decorous pace. Then he glanced at the clock, realized that he had a meeting this morning, and permitted himself to eat a little faster.

“Have you had any contact with Freddie Harolds?” Christopher asked.

Will groaned, his fork scraping across his plate. “What did she write about me?”

“That you have God on your side,” Christopher said mildly. “You are a religious lunatic, feverish with divine right, and you believe yourself above the law. This makes you dangerous. She thinks the Monster is either taunting you or courting you, or perhaps both.”

Will pressed his hand over his mouth and jaw. “Bishop Wallace is going to kill me,” he said through his fingers.

“I’m certain that would violate one of the Commandments.”

“Ugh.” Will poked his last crust of bread with his fork, an unhappy cast to his lips. “I shouldn’t have talked to her.”

“What did she want?”

“I don’t really know—I didn’t let her get that far.

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