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Moloch’s Prophecy
Free Write
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M/M Content
Chapter 18
“This entire section explains what all we need to do.”
“Explains what we need to do?” He did not know.
“Yes, I’ve never done this before.”
“Surely you read this before.”
“About, one hundred twenty years ago.”
Right. “We don’t die easily.”
“Fire only.” Maga turned the page and leaned down, staring at the page. “Our eyes do go, apparently, or this writing is extremely small for some reason.” He slid it closer to me. “Can you see it?”
I glanced down at the sheet and he was correct. It was in the smallest print I’d seen. “The rest of the book like this?” I flipped back a page or two, but it was normal print. “Why is it different?”
“Don’t know, but I’ve got a magnifier.”
“Here it is, Sir.” Les slid a tabletop, lighted magnifier glass.
“Why do you have that if your eyes don’t go?”
“Do a lot of model cars with small pieces that needs to go in small places.”
“Nice hobby.”
I wasn’t about to tell him I used to do them as a child. Mom used to hate me doing them, wonder if it was because she knew he did them. Was it because they reminded her of him? Or did she fear it was part of him coming out in me?
“Okay, there are four parts to it.”
“Let me see.”
He slid the magnifying glass over along with the book. I quickly scanned and debated over each one. Wasn’t that complicated until we got to Part 2. Who was I kidding. Complicated as could be. Easy to choose what style, I’d be choosing a man, so my decoration colors would be purple.
“Will this be a formal or informal and what is the difference?” Did the book tell me?
Maga flipped the pages and tapped the top of the page closest to me.
Informal - comes dressed as you please to impress the one presenting himself.
Formal - black and white tie style clothing
“Please say we can have Informal.”
Maga smiled over at me. “You can have whatever you want.” He gave Les a thumbs up. “Told you he was a match for him.”
“What’s that mean? And match for who?”
Les patted my hand. “Prince Moloch, of course.”
“Match for him in what way?” Unsure what I did, but it drew a huge bending over laugh from Les. “What is wrong?”
“You looked like your dad with that look.”
“Okay, two questions in the air now. How do I match with Prince Moloch and what did I look like?”
“Prince Moloch is not a fancy style person. He hates fancy clothing. Curses when his Highness forces him to attend a Formal Affair. And I’m unsure what look Les is referring to.”
“Those baby blues of yours and his held pure steel and those lips were parted by the smallest amount of fangs and you never seem to know you are showing them. I’m sure it would scare most, but I’ve grown accustom to the look ove the years of service to you, Sir.”
“Course he has.” Mama shook his head. “Ignore him. He’s became to fluid around me. Will have to find a way to put him back in his place.”
Knew Maga never would do such. The two were friends and could tell it by the way they bantered. The others servants didn’t seem to interact with him .Dind’t even come near him, or me. Les wasn’t afraid to approach neither of us.
“Okay, that means we have to decide who will come?”
“Why you looking at me. I don’t know anyone here.”
“I think it is best to do this by word of mouth, that way I can drop the fact that my son has arrived. Highness Moloch knows the rumors about my son. Soon as he knows you are holding your ball he will ensure his sons know as well.”
“Then that means whoever shows up will show up, right?”
“Correct.” Les sat a tall glass of . . . “Is that prune juice?”
“No.”
“It’s blood son.”
“I don’t want that.”
“You need it.” Maga took his own glass from Les and tossed it back. “Take it like a shot. Sure you’ve had one or two of them in your life by now.”
He was right about that, but that was blood. Blood, wasn’t a shot of whisky. Didn’t taste like it either.
“Give it a shot, son.”
I wrapped my fingers around the glass, cursing the mere thought that I was considering picking up the glass. And I was until my fangs cut my lower lip. Shit. I could smell the sweet, sweet metallic scent of what my stomach lurched for. Maga was correct, I needed what lurked inside that clear glass.
“Can you put it in a colored glass?”
“Need to get used to it being a clear one.”
“Why?”
“Everywhere you go here will have clear colored glasses.”
“Why?”
“Thing in the Underworld.”
“It sucks.” I picked up the glass and tossed it back, sighing as the warmth of the blood hit my stomach.
“We have to come back to the decorations.”
“Purple. I’m choosing a man.”
“Yes, but how do you wish the grand room to look? Do you wish to get a designer to set it up along side you or me and you come up with how to organize the style of drapes or cloth you wish to hang?”
Oh?
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