Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“He didn’t cancel them all,” Trent explained. “Only the painting classes.”
“Curious.” Rufus frowned. “Were you able to find his notes? He would have kept meticulous notes concerning his classes and therapy sessions.”
Any kind of planner or journal was important to my case. I’d done a thorough search of the apartment on the night of the murder. I’d only found Alvis’s laptop. “My brothers went through Alvis’s computer, but they didn’t find anything like a personal journal. He kept his mentoring notes and class notes, but nothing that would tell me why he canceled.”
“I will make some inquiries,” Rufus said with a grim resolve.
A gentle chiming went through the domicile, and every primal’s head turned as though they were a flock called in from the fields.
Christopher nodded and held his wife’s hands in his. “It’s time. I will see you before morning. Tell our Luna I love her and to stay out of trouble.”
Apparently the chiming called the primals to their funeral rituals. Those rituals were kind of killing my investigation. Luckily there was only one more day of them and then the primals would be available during their waking hours. Unlike most vampires, primal sleep was not tied to sunrise and sunset. Primals required more sleep than their warrior or academic counterparts. Combine that with hours of silent contemplation, and I hadn’t been able to get much done.
“I will seek you out tomorrow, Hunter,” Rufus offered. “You shall have my full attention after this evening. Until then, feel free to poke around as much as needed. Alvis’s apartment will remain open until morning. There is food and drink, and I hope everyone here will be willing to speak with you.”
I gave him a nod, and he and Christopher joined the other primals in taking their leave. “Where will they go? Do you have any idea what’s involved in this session?”
I had asked Evan earlier, but she hadn’t known. She knew the most about primals from what I could tell, but even she was in the dark about their mourning rituals. Likely because there hadn’t been a primal death in decades. Many of the non-primals in this nest had never experienced one.
Rose began to walk back to the large living area. “I can only tell you what I’ve read or how Christopher explains it. These rituals are only for primals. From what I understand, the primals will take no sustenance for the next forty-eight hours and they will gather together at rise and rest to contemplate their fallen member and discuss a path forward without Alvis’s gifts. It’s their version of a wake.” She gestured around the nicely decorated space. “This is for the non-primals, a way to make them feel welcome.”
“Hospitality is important to the primals.” Trent reached for a beer.
Across the room I saw Fen devouring a sandwich while watching over Evan, who seemed to be happily chatting with a couple of gnomes. They didn’t seem particularly worried to be near my werewolf son. “Has Fen had trouble down here?”
“Fenrir?” Rose selected a glass of wine. “Not at all. Did he have trouble with the werewolves today? I know there was a family using the Under as a shelter until they could get to Colorado. They were told to stay away from the princess.”
I could see Rose was getting upset. “It was all words. No one tried anything.”
“Words can hurt,” Rose said with a frown.
“He mentioned he’s not allowed in the gardens anymore,” I began as I watched Trent amble over to Fenrir.
“Yes, but I’ve talked to him about that. It’s not personal,” Rose said quietly. “There’s a gnome who is still affected by an attack that occurred before he came to the Under. As you can see, Shamus and Murtagh get along quite well with him. It is only Elrin who needs distance, and I’ve been told his therapy is coming along. Although he’ll need to be assigned a new partner.”
“Alvis treated the gnome?” I had seen the name Elrin on his schedule, but I hadn’t read through the notes since they were private. I could if I needed to, but so far I’d tried to respect the patient confidentiality of a therapist. I might not have that luxury.
“Yes, they had therapy sessions twice a week. I don’t know exactly what was happening, but I knew Alvis was pleased with the progress. Being around other gnomes and staying in the gardens seemed to help Elrin immensely,” Rose explained.
“So he was attacked by wolves?”
Rose nodded. “He was brought here by some trolls who found him.”
“Why here? Why not take him to one of the sitheins connected to the Earth plane? There’s a door fairly close. From what I understand, all Fae creatures heal better in a sithein.”
“He wanted to come here. I don’t know exactly why Elrin didn’t leave the Earth plane when the veil closed, but he preferred to stay here. We accept all creatures who come to us with need. I helped heal him in those first days. It was terrible. His wounds, that is. I feared he wouldn’t survive. The attack was vicious, and he’s not over it mentally. It’s why he fears Fenrir and the wolves who come and go. I hope Fen doesn’t take it poorly. It’s truly not about him.”