Fallen Gods

 "I didn't realize there was a gathering in my room," a new voice added.

Whatever tears that had leaked from my eyes quickly dried up as I hastily wiped the remaining trails away. Taking the urn, I shoved it into the back of Blaise's closet, using a speed that even werewolves would be proud of. There was nothing that could fuel me quite like anxiety could.

Blaise stood at the door behind Damon, his arms crossed as he watched out interaction. From a distance, the two brothers had never looked more alike― even their mannerisms could sometimes be perfect mimics of the other.

"What is it?" Damon asked. "Are there new developments with Hornstead's shipment?"

"Not quite," Blaise said with a shrug. I was just returning to my room for a change of clothes. Didn't know that I needed permission for that too."