Darkest Fate by Fabio Bueno

Author:Fabio Bueno [Bueno, Fabio]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Booklings Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19: Drake

Nailed it!

Chapter 20: Skye

He stares at me, a smile on his lips.

Everyone is silent while his words sink in. Even Lady DeWees takes her time before saying, “Thank you, Mr. Hunter. Please sit down.”

Drake comes over and sits by my side, all the while maintaining eye contact with me.

I can’t stop the flow of tears. My throat is closed up.

Mum speaks for me. “Thank you.”

Still looking at me, he says, “Of course.”

Lady DeWees rings the bell. “Now we will deliberate. Guards, please take Miss Lexington-Ellis and Mr. Hunter to the waiting room.”

Upon hearing his name, I stand up. “Drake? You can’t hold him!”

Elsa says, “We need to, Skye. He agreed to it.”

I look at Drake, and he nods.

Mum holds my arm. “I’ll be here. I’ll speak on your behalf.” Then she lets me go. I look around to see if Judi will speak up as well, but I can’t find her anywhere.

The guards take us out of the chamber through one of the passages under the stands. Drake doesn’t say a word.

We go to the second floor, to a large vaulted room with tall windows. The guards close the door and lock it. On the table, a tray with tea and biscuits waits for us. This tiny display of consideration feels weirdly out of place on this day.

I face Drake. “Thanks for coming.”

“Well, I created this mess. I had to come for you.”

I look down. “And thanks for defending me.”

He is right in front of me. The proximity is unbearable. I want to hug him. I want his arms around me, comforting me, protecting me. I miss his scent, his warmth. And, oh, Goddess, I admit it: I miss his lips.

But I stay still. It takes all my inner strength not to kiss him. We can’t have that now. No more mixed messages. I don’t want to create something only to destroy it once again down the line.

His eyes analyze my face, as if reading all that I’m feeling. I think he knows what I want to do. But he doesn’t take the initiative. Instead, he steps back and plops down in one of the antique armchairs. “Any good pubs around here?”

“What?”

“I’ve never been to England. I don’t know the first thing. Will you be my tour guide?”

“What’s wrong with you? We’re prisoners!”

He looks at me, amused. “You know, it’s a long flight here. Did you know it was only my second time in an airplane? I was a kid the first time, and I slept the whole flight. But I was totally wired for this one. Flying is unnerving. After the takeoff, I realized that I was hurtling at five hundred miles per hour over a vast expanse of water in a huge, heavy metal tube. Everything about flying is completely counterintuitive and illogical. To keep my mind away from that, I kept my brain busy. Thinking about you, about my life. About how all the women in my life suddenly are witches. You, Mona, my mother. My mother, the witch assassin.

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