One Crossroads Later - Chapter Two

Feuding Immortal Brothers

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Michael ‘Robin’ O’Shane couldn’t remember a night as miserable as this one had shaped up to being. Not in more decades than the normal human lifespan. A mixture of emotions still ran through him, with his mind not able to settle on which one should take prominence. Sorrow, from the contents of the news he’d received. Confusion, trying to figure out why him? Why this? Why now? If he had to be honest, his hand still clutching onto his cell phone with a tight grip, neither one eclipsed the sense of utter betrayal running through him.

They’d lied to him. They both had. And it hurt coming from Flynn.

Robin turned the phone around in his hand twice before looking at the screen again. Needing to do something, his fingers unlocked the phone and paged back to the text message he’d sent Flynn earlier. Before the phone rang, carrying the worst news he’d heard in a while.

‘You ran out before I could stop you,’ it said. ‘Was going to ask if you had any desire to come with me to an orchestra performance.’

The words formed a knife, piercing him in the back. Tossing the phone on his mattress, he rose to a stand and walked away from his bedroom, attempting to sort himself out. He’d barely had a chance to dress, and though a tailored suit hung from his lithe frame, his shoulder-length hair still brushed his shoulders, forming a shroud of brown in his periphery. Robin walked to the bathroom, pulling a tie from his pocket, and used the mirror to secure his ponytail into place.

His brown eyes looked exhausted. The century and a half behind them felt multiplied by three, and something about the look in them only emphasized this. He wanted to be mournful, and a part of his mind knew if he could be more morose it would help his disposition. The truth was, he didn’t love Demetrius and Demetrius had known that. Had even chided him over it countless times.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead,” he muttered to his reflection.