Then there were the shadows.
Phei's eyes drifted toward one dark corner of the lounge.
He could feel them.
Faintly.
They stood throughout the villa in places ordinary perception would never notice, woven into corners, reflections and stretches of darkness where nothing should have possessed a presence.
His grandmother's shadows had been appearing more often lately, and tonight they seemed almost everywhere.
Chaos, apparently, would always answer when her grandson truly needed her.
Phei was grateful.
He also understood exactly what she was doing.
Chaos was not spoon-feeding him.
If Chaos intended to solve his problems for him, Phei would currently have an army of beings stronger than World Transcendents standing behind the couch while one of them politely asked whether Young Master preferred Danton alive, dead or folded into decorative furniture.
Instead, her shadows remained here.
With his women.
