Free Raven (Legends Saga Book 2) by Stacey Rourke Page A

beside me. I sincerely wish I had more information than that to offer.”
    Ireland’s chin dipped in a brief nod. Beside her, Ridley shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again. Under his breath he muttered incoherent words in a methodic cadence. A soul lost, searching for answers to questions he couldn’t fathom to ask. She knew that feeling well. She’d been there herself, recent enough for the memory to still sting.
    Irving.
    Poe.
    She was right. The pattern was repeating.
    “Ridley .” His name slipped from her lips in a throaty breath. “Is there something in there you need?” 
    The once suave businessman nodded. His glossy veneer rubbed away to reveal the frightened, child-like reality beneath.
    “Then let’s go find it .” Flipping her hair from her eyes, and refusing to grant her throbbing head another moments thought, she offered Ridley her hand, “Together.”
    Tentatively , he laced his sweat-damped hand with hers. His eyes snapping open wide the second their skin touched. Unbridled awe dawned across his face, brightening the shadows that burrowed into the hollows of his features.
    “Al l right,” Ireland snipped, fighting off the urge to retract her hand. “Quit looking at me like Heaven opened and angels are singing, and let’s get this over with.”
    Prompting him forward with a light tug, the two strode inside. Side-by-side.

     
    8

    Edgar
     
    “I could make it all go away. I long to make that so.” Douglas murmured against Edgar’s ear, his rancid breath causing the young man’s nose to twitch with disgust. “All you have to do is listen to me—to us . Help us, Edgar, in ways we can no longer help ourselves. You do that, and your existence will instantly become far less … dreary .” 
    Edgar’s head twitched to the side, beads of sweat forming along his hairline. He tried to stay attentive to the dinner conversation, for his father’s sake . A task that proved increasingly difficult. Eyeballs rolling in the ice water. Maggots squirming between the tongs of his fork and all through his salad. None of it was real, he knew that. Still, it succeeded in squashing his appetite—as it always did—and made him thirst for a long pull off the freshly purchased flask in his coat.
    “Are you well, son?” Father’s bushy-bearded business associate, whose name Edgar could not recall, asked between mouthfuls. “You are chasing that lettuce all around the bowl, yet have scarcely managed a bite.”
    Across the table John Allen’s posture went rigid. His jaw tightening in barely concealed disapproval.
    “I am, sir,” Edgar forced his gaze up to their guest, hoping that—despite how awkward it felt—his attempt at a smile came across even a smidgeon believable. All the while he tried to wade through the murky fog of his mind for a plausible explanation. “I … ahem … had a rather large lun—”
    Distraction picked that moment to blow in on a gust of fresh air and jasmine. Edgar blinked hard, momentarily convinced only he could see this yellow-haired seraph before him. The low scoop neck of her emerald green gown hinting at the supple curves beneath the layers of flowing fabric.
    “Ah! There you are, my darling.” Mr. Reynolds dabbed the corners of his mouth with his cloth napkin before pushing his chair back from the table. “Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet my daughter—”
    “Lenore.” The name th e angels themselves must have dubbed this enchanting vision slipped free from Edgar’s lip before he could think to filter it. He slowly rose from the table on wobbly legs that threatened to fold beneath him.
    Her head cocked with interest, she turned his way. A soft smile lifted the corner of her luscious lips as she peered at him with eyes the exquisite violet shade of impending twilight. “That’s right,” a lilt of laughter bubbled through her tone. “And you are?”
    His mouth opened to answer when a sudden rush of awareness seized in his throat in a