The flute I’m playing belonged to my ancestors, going back to the time of the crusades. Engraved on the side of the flute reads In Nomine Patris ET ...ilii ET Spiritus Sancti: In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It has been well kept and well handled, only the one’s whom are willing enough greatness can handle such a beautiful instrument. My ancestors were assassins in the crusades, working for the Church, and apparently severing the word of God. Though I never really thought of the. Behind me, I could hear the rhythmic snoring of Greg in deep sleep. He was spooned up against my back with one heavy leg thrown over my hip while one of his arms curved over my shoulder and held me tight against him. I loved sleeping with him curled around me. It never failed to make me feel safe, loved, and protected.The snoring, on the other hand, could wake the dead.That wasn't it, though. Concentrating on various parts of my body seemed to offer no answers either. I snuggled my butt closer. More

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