Prey

Chapter 12

Xander's POV

I sat at my desk, my chin resting on one hand and a pen spinning between my first two fingers in the other.

I'd been trying to read over this document for the upcoming blood collection for about an hour, trying to mark it and jot down the questions and concerns I had, as well as suggestions to make it run smoother.

But through all of this time, I had just barely gotten through the second paragraph.

My eyes squinted at the realization, my gaze trailing over to the other stack of papers that I had to get through as well.

A quiet, stultified groan rumbled from my chest.

God this is so BORING.

Why the hell did Nico and I need to do all of this when we were basically just playing security that day?!

I had debated multiple times to just do it later, but I really didn't want to just dump it on Nico.

Again.

I knew right about now he was having his little check-in meeting with Lord Bronwyn.

Which meant he wouldn't need these papers for a few more days, but knowing myself I'd just procrastinate last minute and then really hate myself.

Setting the pen down, I stretched my arms above my head and leaned back as far as my desk chair would allow, releasing everything with a quick exhale.

I probably wouldn't get a lot done tomorrow night since there was a good chance Layla would come by.

A knot tied itself in the pit of my stomach as soon as that thought crossed my mind.

A reaction that was becoming more and more apparent, but especially ever since the last time she visited...

I turned my head just enough to see Doe.

She sat crisscrossed on the couch, plucking at the strings on my old violin in a way that told me she was trying to flesh out a tune.

It was a violin I had brought from home, back when I learned to play to pass the time.

I brought it with me here in case I ever got the urge to play it.

But I never really did, so instead it just gathered dust in my closet.

Or at least it did until a few months ago when she found it and seemed to take a quick infatuation to it.

So of course I let her mess with it.

It was better than her being bored all the time.

She held it like a guitar, which was partially because the bow was so old and worn that it wouldn't work and therefore left her with nothing else.

I would have offered to get a new one, but she seemed content with how she was doing it.

Who was I to say she was doing it wrong?

I listened for a second, seeing her eyes tight in focus as she plucked one string at a time, her left hand then shifting to push down against the strings on the neck of it, then again and again with a different note every time.

It wasn't in any correct key signature, but it didn't necessarily sound bad.

All I taught her was the basics of everything, but that was only because she asked.

She liked figuring things out on her own.

I just continued to watch, thinking back for a minute to how she's changed since I initially purchased her.