Who: Mitchell & Samandriel Where: Their place When: Friday Night - week 13 Why: Carrick makes a convincing offer. Warning: TBD
The envelope didn't come with the normal mail. It came special delivery at an off time and Samandriel had been the one to sign for it. He didn't know where Mitchell was. The vampire could've been napping or he could've been off running an errand, hell, he could've been standing right behind him. The former angel had been painting. He lost all track of everything when that happened, could spend hours at it without remembering to eat or sleep. It was only the practice of setting an alarm that kept him at least taking care of himself a little.
An alarm that, funnily enough, sounded enough like the doorbell to have Samandriel going to answer it without grumping too much.
He didn't look at the front of the package beyond the return address. He didn't know if it was for him, and frankly didn't care. If Carrick was making some kind of offer to buy him from Mitchell, he wanted to know the details of it. The man had threatened to after all. There was a thick document inside, several pages long and clearly meant for his master. A smaller envelope fell out, the slave's own name written on it in Carrick's fluid handwriting.
He opened that first.
Samandriel wished he hadn't. He sank down onto the floor by the kitchen table, gaze fixed on that photo like nothing in the world could pull him away from it.
His Grace. He didn't even have to be near it to know what it was. The photo didn't accurately capture the bright white-blue shine of it, but he knew the cut of that bottle and knew how gorgeous and vital what was inside was.
He almost didn't care what Carrick's terms were. All he wanted in the world was his Grace. He'd named his price and the ancient vampire seemed interested enough in him to be prepared to pay it.