Straightening back up, Damien patted his son's shoulder once—harder than necessary. "Get comfortable, son." Then he turned and descended down the steps. As he passed the councilors, the three turned on cue and fell into step behind him.
The tall golden doors swung open with a low groan, and as soon as Damien and the councilors stepped through them, they closed behind him with a heavy thud that echoed in the now silent chamber.
Enzo leaned back on the throne, staring up at the high ceiling. He let out a long, weary sigh and muttered under his breath, "Adeline…"
—
The next morning. Saturday. 9:00 a.m.
Evelyn's apartment—Human world.
Evelyn walked stiffly through the living room, confusion twisted on her features as she moved forward, guided firmly by Adeline's hands. Adeline held her best friend's arms with both hands, leading her toward the couch like one might guide a sleepwalker.
"Addie, what's going on?" she asked, her eyes darting back at her over her shoulder.
