I looked across at the painting. Everything seemed the same. But whatever had just happened was way beyond anything I could handle, at least right now. I staggered to the door and wrenched it open. I needed some fresh air. Plus, I needed to pull myself together before Diamond caught sight of me. I didn’t need a mirror to know how dreadful I looked.
Later, as I showered and washed away the acrid smell, I decided not to mention any of this to Emma. It would just upset her. A pang of regret shot through me. There was so much I was keeping from her. I was fortunate that she couldn’t read my mind. I had no idea the cause but I was grateful.
Margaret and Abigail were still hounding me. I knew why, my nightmares were worse than ever. I was still obsessed with painting the same panorama, again and again. So far, I’d managed to keep the portraits hidden, but it was only a matter of time before Diamond found me out.
And then what?
I slipped back into bed in the wee hours of the morning. Fortunately for me, she was quite the sound sleeper. I waited for Emma to wake.
Diamond stirred and blinked open her eyes. “Good morning,” she said, smiling sleepily.
My heart lurched. Yes, some things were better left alone. I hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. “Good morning to you, my love.” I relaxed against the pillow, confident of my decision. After all, it was just common sense not to put ourselves in jeopardy.
I would protect Emma at any cost.
EPILOGUE
The Watcher
It had taken only one month for my perfect opportunity to reveal itself.
I watched as Tristan entered the sacred space in his ridiculous fuzzy slippers. What an idiot.
Emma had disempowered me. But I wouldn’t just stand by and let her take me for a fool.
Emma may have caused this pain, made me lose my power bit by bit but I was no-where near gone. I was watching. She didn’t yet have all the pieces to the puzzle.
Tristan stared at the painting for a moment before he ran his finger along the gilt frame, and I grinned in delight. Tristan and his portrait had finally come together and anything was possible.
Emma and Tristan had underestimated my resolve. They had made their first mistake. They would make another. And I would be watching and waiting.
Another opportunity would come.
I would be ready.
Tristan convulsed on the floor, acclimating to the power of the painting. The power that was to be mine.
In a state of shock, he vomited, brushed himself off, and then quickly fled the room.
I gazed joyfully upon the beauty of the painting. I watched it start to glow, brilliant as the sun and then quickly wink out.
I stared at the empty wall.
The painting was gone.
What a fool Tristan was. He hadn’t connected with the painting properly. He had released some of the power in the painting and not seized it. It was mine for the taking.
Ah yes, it had started. Fate was delicious. I could feel my power returning just from accessing one tiny microscopic portion of the paintings potential. In mere hours after I let the power acclimate, I would have enough strength back to take a body. Tristan had given me new life.
I would be saved.
I heard the director in my head. “You may be some use to us after all. You have proven yourself well. Determination is the key to success. Now find that painting and get what we came here for. You don’t want to disappoint me again.”
“Yes of course, Aniketos.”
My robe was returned to me and I spun around the room in glee. The light of my renewed energy glowed out of the dark cloth as brightly as the sun.
The Watcher had returned.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Genevieve Crownson, graduated from the College of Charleston with a Bachelors of Science degree. A love of writing led her to pen her debut novel, The Soul of the Sun. This is book one in her highly anticipated trilogy, The Argos Dynasty. She currently lives in beautiful Charleston, SC with her family and beloved four legged friends. You can find her at www.genevievecrownson.com.
The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty) Page 25
