Prophecy: Dark Moon Rising by Felicity Heaton

other.”
    “It seems as though you love her.” Cornelius edged closer.
    He frowned again and gritted his teeth at the blindingly obvious observation. “Of course I’m in love with her!”
    “She loves you?”
    “Yes!”
    “So what’s making you so—” Cornelius stopped himself and looked as though he’d just realised that whatever he was about to say might not be wise after all.
    “Say it.” Valentine challenged him.
    “Cranky.”
    He considered it for a moment. Why was he so miserable when he was here? Surely it couldn’t just be because of Prophecy and his family. There had to be something else. He frowned and clenched his fists when he remembered what he’d been thinking about earlier. Cornelius had always been a good listener, even if he did come out with the most ridiculous suggestions, and he had always kept secret the things he’d been told.
    Valentine sat on the end of his bed and placed the towel down beside him. Feeling even more agitated by sitting, he stood again and paced across the room to the writing desk.
    “It is being here while she is there with him,” he said, opening the small cupboard in the desk.
    “With who?” Cornelius seemed fixed to the spot and Valentine couldn’t blame him for keeping his distance and staying close to an escape route.
    The mood he was gradually sinking into, it was probably the wisest thing Cornelius had ever done.
    “The Tenebrae!” he said and unscrewed the cap of a clear glass bottle.
    “The one that saved your life?”
    Valentine growled in his direction, warning him that he was treading on very thin ice.
    “I don’t see the problem, my lord.” There was a tremble in Cornelius’ voice that betrayed his nerves about saying those words.
    Valentine sighed. “The Tenebrae has affections for her also. He is there … I am here.”
    He took a swig from the bottle, wishing for once it would dampen his senses like alcohol used to. He needed something to dull the pain.
    “But she loves you.”
    Turning swiftly, he stalked towards Cornelius, who backed away until he bumped into the door. “Change the subject! Better yet … leave! I need to pace before I go insane.”
    Cornelius fumbled with the door handle and pulled it open. “I shall tell everyone that you’re not to be disturbed.”
    “Good. Do that,” he said and then slammed the door the moment Cornelius was through it.
    Heaving a sigh, he headed over to the windows and peered through the curtains. Satisfied that the sun was no longer a threat, he threw them open and lifted the latch on the twin glass doors that were the window. He opened them and stepped out onto the small balcony overlooking the garden. The first of the patrols were already heading out.
    He swigged his bottle, taking down a great gulp of the alcohol and smiling when it started to quell the fire in his heart and quieten the voice at the back of his mind.

    Prophecy paced the study. The soft glow from the lamps between the bookcases that lined the walls and the row of desk lamps on the long dark wood table did nothing to warm her. She felt cold. The drain of the past few days had left her feeling more tired than ever and the constant waiting was playing on her last nerve.
    She sighed and turned, heading back in the direction she’d come from. She was probably wearing a hole in the antique rug that ran under the length of the table and chairs, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was getting some sleep, but if she couldn’t have that, she would settle for some answers about the prophecy, or even just some action to alleviate her boredom.
    “What’s wrong?” Venturi said.
    She’d almost forgotten he was sitting at the table. She’d been so preoccupied with her thoughts and he hadn’t spoken in so long that she’d felt as though she was alone. Her eyes strayed to him. He was watching her with that look of concern he wore only for her.
    “Nothing,” she said and continued to pace, turning when she reached the end of