Chapter 8

The drive to Regina's place was filled with silence. Cillian sat in the back of the car, staring at the window with a prominent frown on his face. Despite the fact that Regina had just called him—informing him that she wasn't feeling all that well and needed to be rushed to the hospital—Cillian's mind wasn't filled with thoughts of concern or worry. No, his mind was elsewhere. Bellatrix. Like a plague, his mind continuously replayed the encounter that had occurred just a few minutes ago and each time he recalled how Damien had held her and how close they had been, a subtle wave of anger would wash over him and his blood would boil and his fists clench. However, what had upset him the most, was the way Bellatrix had looked at him, the way her eyes had met his and how there was no warmth in her gaze. All he could see was a familiar calm that unsettled him. For a brief second, he felt a wave of panic wash over him, the very same way he had felt after the death of his parents. The feeling