Abby
The light of the moon streaming in through the high windows casts a dim blue glow over the corridor. As I step up to the cracked-open door of Damon’s private chambers, however, a flickering orange light mixes in with the dusky blues and grays.
“Hello?” I call out softly, knocking twice on the heavy oak door as I push it open. The room is furnished with a set of sofas and armchairs, a fireplace, and an entire bar. One wall is entirely dedicated to bookshelves, while there are several doors leading off in other directions. This room alone, Damon’s parlor so to speak, is bigger than my entire apartment back in the city.
But Damon is nowhere to be found. I furrow my brow as I look around, straining my eyes to see in the dim light. “Damon?”
“Abby.”
I don’t see him at
