The raven—his bird comes quickly to his shoulder in all its dark glory. It purrs and fidgets a moment before settling down, still as stone. “Chloe gave her to you.” I reach up and stroke its soft black feathers with the back of my hand. It’s as tall as a table lamp, and this startles me. “It’s a he—his name is Nevermore.” He holds out his arm and the bird bounces down. “I’m giving him to you.” Gage gives a soft smile just enough to light up his dimples and spear me with those glowing eyes. “A little nick is all we need.” Marshall’s vision makes sense now. I feel sort of jipped with that whole prediction thing. It’s obvious he’s taking advantage of me. There’s nothing disturbing about the blood on the knife being my own. Gage is offering me something beautiful. “So you cut me and the bird?” “I promise I won’t hurt you.” “Why such a big knife?” Not that I don’t like the drama associated with the weaponry. In fact, I wouldn’t mind having it around since I’m ready to take on the Counts myself if I have to.
