A Trailing Handprint
Sebastian was surprised to see a bold shadow step from the tree, momentarily catching him off-guard. Only Deragan’s projection.
The Captain’s body remained carefully hidden by the tree.
Usually the Captain isn’t so impulsive…Only when it comes to her.
Bast watched her lean against both edges of the pane in an attempt to see the street through the downpour.
Holding his breath, Bast reminded himself she couldn’t see the spirit projection.
Only Forever Knights can see spirit so clearly. Bast knew.
At length she shook her head and put her forehead against the cool window. Hand on the glass next to her she watched rivulets cascading odd little trails. Leaning back, she gave a weak smile as droplets seemed to move around her hand despite, they were on the other side.
It was a painful sight to witness. Poor, miserable souls.
Deragan’s outline, head and shoulders blocked light from the Parlor. And she, unaware she stared at where she and her lover’s palms were separated by only a thin layer of glass.
The closest they’ve been in almost twenty years.
Giving a weak smile, seemed almost to say she was relieved despite that she couldn’t really know he was out there.
Some part of her does. Bast thought. Some deep-seated fragment of her soul recognizes his essence from across a room. Or through a glass pane.
Finally turning she crossed the room, back to the candle. But some strange impulse drove her to glance back.
Nora Bishop gasped.
For a moment, just a moment, there’d been a flash of steam like someone’s breath on the glass and then the slide of water toward the bottom.
Like a trailing handprint…
“Imagine if you will, the agony of wooing your lover over, and over again. Each time to be done anew. In each new body she doesn’t know me. Always, I must start from the beginning, chancing any mistake that could lead her into the waiting arms of the demon.”
-Deragan told Sebastian about the Fallen.