'Absolutely.'
He could feel her eyes on him as he left, and he liked it. He liked everything. He-
As he emerged into the foyer, he found what Fritz had left for him on the table by the foot of the grand staircase. At first he wasn't sure quite how to handle the thing… he didn't want to break it. In the end he held it gently in his hands and went into the library. He shut the double doors with his mind and sent a request to the Other Side.
Yeah, sure, he wasn't following the rules of proper dress, but then, he was a little preoccupied with what was in his hands.
When permission was granted, he dematerialized to the Scribe Virgin's courtyard and was greeted by the same Chosen as the last time he'd been there. Amalya began to bow, but looked up as a chirping sound came from his carefully cupped palms.
'What have you brought?' she whispered.
'Little present. Nothing much.' He walked over to the white tree with the white blossoms and opened his hands. The parakeet leaped free and took to a branch as if it knew that was its home now.
The brilliant yellow bird shuffled up and down the pale arm of the tree, its little feet gripping and releasing, gripping and releasing. It pecked at a blossom, let out a trill… brought a foot up and pedaled its neck.
V put his hands on his hips and measured how much space there was between all the blossoms on all the branches. He was going to have to bring over a shitload of birds.
The Chosen's voice was rife with emotion. 'She gave them up for you.'
'Yeah. And I'm bringing her new ones.'
'But the sacrifice-'
'Has been made. What's going on this tree is a gift.' He looked over his shoulder. 'I'm going to fill it up whether she likes it or not. It's her choice what she does with them.'
The Chosen's eyes gleamed with gratitude. 'She will keep them. And they will keep her from her solitude.'
V took a deep breath. 'Yeah. Good. Because…'
He let the word drift and the Chosen said gently, 'You don't have to say it.'
He cleared his throat. 'So you'll tell her they're from me?'
'I won't have to. Who else but her son would do such a kindness?'
Vishous glanced back at the lone yellow bird in the midst of the white tree. He pictured the branches filled once again.
'True,' he said.
Without another word he dematerialized back to the life he'd been given, the life he was leading… the life he now, and for the first time, was grateful he'd been born into.
J. R. Ward
A pseudonym used by Jessica Bird (Jessica Rowley Pell Bird)
J.R. Ward is a #1 New York Times and USAToday Best Selling author of erotic paranormal romance. She lives in the south with her incredibly supportive husband and her beloved golden retriever. After graduating from law school, she began working in healthcare in Boston and spent many years as Chief of Staff of one of the premier academic medical centers in the nation. Writing has always been her passion and her idea of heaven is a whole day of nothing but her computer, her dog and her coffee pot.
