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Week Nine: Sunday
When: Afternoon
Where: Their hotel
Who: Mikkos and Nikolaos
Eighteen days gone. Eighteen days too long. For one so old the days were but a blink, but now held more value to the centuries old demon. Everything had changed. Nothing made sense, and every day held a new urgency.
He’d learned much an absence, and for all he learned he knew he learned not near enough. Only that all he’d known for so long, was now in question. Even family loyalty. No… especially family loyalty. He’d punished the one who brought such questions to light, but that did nothing to erase the doubt. A doubt that now grew with each passing day.
Even speaking with his father had done nothing to diminish it. No, no questions were asked of the old man, and Mikkos was careful not to allow any doubt to show, but neither did his father utter a word about all the questions now in Mikkos mind.
No word from Haimon seemed as good as a confirmation. Haimon after all, feigned as much carelessness as Mikkos, when both knew neither felt anywhere near as careless as they seemed.
Still, it made no sense. None at all. Especially when given word that Nik had Dorian in custody. All the years, all the urgency, and now that they had him, there was no hurry at all in bringing him home.
Mikkos hadn’t even returned to his own suite, instead he went straight to that which Nik stayed in. The guards alerted Nik even before his father arrived and let the elder in. Once inside, the demon washed his hands, splashed cool water on his face, and straightened his suit before fixing himself a drink at the bar.
Where: Their hotel
Who: Mikkos and Nikolaos
Eighteen days gone. Eighteen days too long. For one so old the days were but a blink, but now held more value to the centuries old demon. Everything had changed. Nothing made sense, and every day held a new urgency.
He’d learned much an absence, and for all he learned he knew he learned not near enough. Only that all he’d known for so long, was now in question. Even family loyalty. No… especially family loyalty. He’d punished the one who brought such questions to light, but that did nothing to erase the doubt. A doubt that now grew with each passing day.
Even speaking with his father had done nothing to diminish it. No, no questions were asked of the old man, and Mikkos was careful not to allow any doubt to show, but neither did his father utter a word about all the questions now in Mikkos mind.
No word from Haimon seemed as good as a confirmation. Haimon after all, feigned as much carelessness as Mikkos, when both knew neither felt anywhere near as careless as they seemed.
Still, it made no sense. None at all. Especially when given word that Nik had Dorian in custody. All the years, all the urgency, and now that they had him, there was no hurry at all in bringing him home.
Mikkos hadn’t even returned to his own suite, instead he went straight to that which Nik stayed in. The guards alerted Nik even before his father arrived and let the elder in. Once inside, the demon washed his hands, splashed cool water on his face, and straightened his suit before fixing himself a drink at the bar.