It was time she acted upon Cieara DeAuster?s advice. Tommy thought that he could continue to mess with her after he dealt his deathblow of killing Skyler? Oh no. He was just making the end that she had planned for him more and more painful with every encounter. She delighted in thinking about it and almost wanted to encourage him to push her some more, further. Yes, Tommy, let?s see how far you can push little Jewell Ravenlock before she really snaps.
Jewell may not have been living solely for revenge, but it was often on her mind. She allowed it to shadow some of her happiest moments over the past month in order not to forget. Her master had taught her to be ruthless in bringing down an enemy, years in politics had taught her subtlety and twisted games, and life in general had taught her patience. Combining all three, she felt ready to begin.
This too was part of her mourning process, a much more satisfying part.
Not of all her time lately was spent scouting the streets of the West End. A few days had been devoted to wandering the grounds of Cosmo Beach, surrounded by the invisibility of glamour. She had been growing stronger in all aspects of her magic, pushing herself so that she would never fail a loved one again. Glamour would always be a particular strength with her, and mortals were the easiest to hide from. She wandered about, endlessly patient, nothing more than a passing breeze if even that. Grey eyes watched Tommy?s coming and goings, kept track of Gasher, Molly, Jenna. Timing was of the essence.
Her opening came one evening at twilight?the witching hour. Deceit and illusion were the tricks of such a liminal time, and those were games that every fae played well. Tommy had just left and now Jenna was coming out the door. Jewell wasted no time in slipping into the house before the front door closed, narrowly making it even in one of her smaller forms. She held back her sigh of relief and started wandering through the house?a true ghost, completely unseen by all.
Getting inside Tommy?s office proved more difficult than entering the house, the crack beneath the closed door being incredibly small. Even in her tiniest of forms, it took her some minutes: shoving, pushing, crawling, slithering. She managed to finally get through, bruised and scratched but grinning like a little fiend. Shifting back into what she considered her every-day size, she moved towards Tommy?s desk. A card, blue in color so as not to be missed, was lifted from her pocket and set on the center of the surface. Satisfied, her job done, she left the office in the same way she had come in.
Wandering around the house, it took some time before she was given an opportunity to leave. That was all right, though, for Jewell had all the time in the world.
The card she had left on Tommy?s desk read simply, in her neat handwriting:
The fey do not forget.
I will come for you.
Jewell may not have been living solely for revenge, but it was often on her mind. She allowed it to shadow some of her happiest moments over the past month in order not to forget. Her master had taught her to be ruthless in bringing down an enemy, years in politics had taught her subtlety and twisted games, and life in general had taught her patience. Combining all three, she felt ready to begin.
This too was part of her mourning process, a much more satisfying part.
Not of all her time lately was spent scouting the streets of the West End. A few days had been devoted to wandering the grounds of Cosmo Beach, surrounded by the invisibility of glamour. She had been growing stronger in all aspects of her magic, pushing herself so that she would never fail a loved one again. Glamour would always be a particular strength with her, and mortals were the easiest to hide from. She wandered about, endlessly patient, nothing more than a passing breeze if even that. Grey eyes watched Tommy?s coming and goings, kept track of Gasher, Molly, Jenna. Timing was of the essence.
Her opening came one evening at twilight?the witching hour. Deceit and illusion were the tricks of such a liminal time, and those were games that every fae played well. Tommy had just left and now Jenna was coming out the door. Jewell wasted no time in slipping into the house before the front door closed, narrowly making it even in one of her smaller forms. She held back her sigh of relief and started wandering through the house?a true ghost, completely unseen by all.
Getting inside Tommy?s office proved more difficult than entering the house, the crack beneath the closed door being incredibly small. Even in her tiniest of forms, it took her some minutes: shoving, pushing, crawling, slithering. She managed to finally get through, bruised and scratched but grinning like a little fiend. Shifting back into what she considered her every-day size, she moved towards Tommy?s desk. A card, blue in color so as not to be missed, was lifted from her pocket and set on the center of the surface. Satisfied, her job done, she left the office in the same way she had come in.
Wandering around the house, it took some time before she was given an opportunity to leave. That was all right, though, for Jewell had all the time in the world.
The card she had left on Tommy?s desk read simply, in her neat handwriting:
The fey do not forget.
I will come for you.