Nevertheless, he answered. “Your great-grandparents. And mine.”
“Where are they?”
“On this very island.”
“Dolos?”
“Dolos before the curse. Before it broke off.”
“Why would this be hanging here?” I glanced up at him. “After everything.”
“Maybe as a reminder of what once was.”
“Why would you want to remember an old friendship, especially one that supposedly wronged you?”
“Why do we study history?”
“To learn from the past and not make the same mistakes all over again.”
“But do we ever truly learn? Some would argue that your presence in this house would mean we don’t.”
“Mayra says my cousin haunts the Manor.”
“Did she, now.” River’s lips set into a fine line.
“Is she telling the truth?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts, in curses.”
“Is she telling the truth?” I turned around and tilted my head to meet his gaze.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
He was standing far too close to me. So close that when he reached for me and wrapped an arm around my waist, I was powerless to stop him. So close that when he brought his face down, his nose touched mine and I stopped breathing entirely.
“What do you want to know, Penelope?” he murmured against me.
“Everything.”
“Everything?” He pulled away ever so slightly, just enough to look into my eyes.
“Yes.”
“Be careful what you wish for, little witch. These walls just may grant them to you.”
“Maybe I want them to.” I swallowed.
“What will you do when you learn that everything you thought you knew was a lie?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” I blinked, feeling myself drifting, as if in a dream. “What’s a lie?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” River leaned in again and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me softly, so softly my knees buckled.
His hold around me tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue flowing into mine, taking, granting. He felt familiar, yet entirely too exciting to have ever kissed me before. I’d remember this kiss. I’d remember these lips and this tongue and these hands. It felt like my dream, just like my dream, but this was real. When he broke the kiss and pulled away, looking at me with a longing that nearly broke my heart, I knew it was real.
“River?” a female voice called out down the hall.
“We’ll be right there.” He straightened, bringing me with him, and took my hand in his as he led me down the hall.
We stopped in front of a woman and I had to take a second to gather my bearings. It was Sarah, the blonde beauty from the stories. She was wearing a beautiful floor-length dark pink dress that matched the flowers I’d seen on their lawn, and a matching fascinator on her head that made it look like she was either going to a tea party or the Kentucky Derby. She was stunning. I’d seen pictures of her around town, pictures on Missing signs that her husband had placed all over the island, even though he knew exactly where she was and who she was with. Her husband was long gone, but Sarah’s signs remained, faded and ripped up, but no one dared take them down.
No one on the island dared touch anything that belonged to a dead person. It would be like calling death upon yourself, cursing yourself. Still, despite the fades and tears and washed-up signs, Sarah’s face always looked beautiful, but seeing her in person was something else. She didn’t look like she’d aged a day, but that was impossible. I thought of the tree, of the leaves. As if reading my thoughts, she smiled.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Penelope.”
“Likewise,” I said. “You can call me Penny.”
“Oh.” She looked horrified, her perfect mouth turning downward. “Nonsense, love. Pennies are bad luck and my son would never pick up bad luck anywhere, would you, River?”
“No, ma’am.” He smiled. I looked up at River, then back at Sarah. I knew she wasn’t his birth mother, but I’d believe it if they said she was.
“Come. Meet our patriarch.” She moved out of the way, still smiling. “Wilfred. River is here with his date to see you.”
“Hello.” Wilfred Caliban called out as we walked inside the sitting area of what I assumed was their bedroom.
The sitting area was large, with a fireplace, two loveseats, and two chairs around a coffee table. We stopped walking there and waited as the footsteps approached and stopped by the fireplace. Wilfred Caliban, like Sarah, looked to be forty years old at the most. I was no longer holding River’s hand, but I reached for it now. He seemed surprised by this, glancing over at me quickly, but instead of saying anything, he ran his thumb over my hand. The closer Wilfred got, the more I suspected he wasn’t ill at all. His dark skin, darker than mine and River’s, was tight, glowing, and his hair was pitch black but cut very low to his scalp, as if a barber had just passed a machine over it.
“Father, this is Penelope Guzman.”
“Oh.” Wilfred Caliban stopped dead in his tracks and looked at his son, then stared at me. “You chose a Guzman?”
“Yes. Remember we talked about this.”
“Ah, yes.” Wilfred’s brows pulled in and I could tell he was lying to placate his son. “Are you Maximo’s girl?”
“Yes.” I swallowed.
“My condolences,” Wilfred said with a nod. He looked at Sarah, shaking his head. “The bastard beat me in everything, even in death.”
“Wilfred,” Sarah warned.
“Well, no use in not welcoming you. You’re here after all, and under the care of my son. How perfectly fitting.” Wilfred smiled. “You’re a real beauty.”
“Thanks.” I looked down at my feet, accepting the compliment but also making it known I didn’t want any more of them.
“We won’t take more of your time. The guests are waiting,” River said. “I just wanted to bring her to meet you.”
“Thank you for that.” Wilfred nodded at River. “Take your time coming back out to the party. Sarah and I will be introduced now.” He walked away and joined Sarah before they walked out of the room together.
River stared at the licks of the fire in front of us. I let go of his hand and wrapped my arms around myself wondering what the hell that was and what the hell I’d gotten myself into. The good thing was he said I could leave with my friends tonight and I fully intended to take him up on that. After this little meeting and Mayra’s words, the sooner I left, the better.
Chapter Sixteen
Leave this place.
The voice was whispered in my ear. I looked around quickly, heart pounding, but the only person standing in the room was River and he was staring up at the painting above the mantle. It was an odd painting. Black and white, more blacks than whites, all swirling around the canvas. I thought I saw a face. Eyes staring at me. I looked around again. Like every other room in this godforsaken house, this one was dim as well, gas lamps flickering off in a distance, the licks of the fire in front of us not doing much other than making me feel suddenly sweaty.
Leave the voice said again.
“Did you hear that?” I shivered and walked closer to River.
“Hear what?” He looked down at me.
“Someone’s in here with us.”
“There’s no one here.” River made a show of looking around. “We should get back.”
“So, Sarah raised you?” I chanced a glance at him from the corner of my eye as we walked out of the room.
“She did.”
“What happened to your birth mom?”
“What happens to anyone when they’re finished with this life?”
“She died?”
“In plain terms.”
“Plain terms.” I let out a laugh. “There are only plain terms, River. We’re human. Humans are plain. We like yes or no answers and black and white issues. Anyth
ing beyond that, we struggle with.”
“Is this a segue to calling my ancestors slave owners again?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as we walked.
“No.” My lips pursed. “Mine were no better. This island has a lot of deep, dark secrets we don’t talk about and there’s a reason for that. When secrets surface, we can no longer hide from our truth.”
“I think we can finally agree on something,” he said. “But for the record, my grandparents were married in secret because their love was forbidden and I like to think they were in love.”
“You didn’t strike me as the hopeless romantic type.”
“What did I strike you as?” His eyes glittered in amusement.
“I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“Hm.” He looked toward the party we were nearing again and I wondered if he ever felt flattered by anything he heard anymore.
“Are the same people invited to the gala every year?”
“Not every year, but the ones who aren’t invited back beg for an invite.”
“Why?” I laughed. “The party is fine and all, but I haven’t seen anything spectacular. No offense.”
“That’s because you haven’t walked into any of the rooms.” He quirked an eyebrow as we reached the edge of the hall, where the house opened up once more and the foyer was packed with people.
“You act like I’m going to experience some sort of magical thing in them.” I turned to him, not ready to join the festivities just yet.
“In plain terms.” He faced me as well. “You just might.”
“In plain terms magic doesn’t exist.”
“According to that logic, this island doesn’t exist. I don’t exist. We don’t exist.” River smiled, but it was a smile that spoke of a million sad tales. He brought a hand to my face. “They’re not fables, little witch.”
“If they’re not fables, why would you live here? How would you survive this house if it really is full of deceit?”
“Isn’t every house deceitful in one way or another?”
“Not the way you’re saying, not with magic and disappearing acts.”
“Maybe you should go into one of the rooms and see for yourself.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe I will.” I jutted my chin up.
I was always up for a dare, after all. I glanced at a woman walking out of one of the rooms. She’d been wearing a flapper-looking dress, but it was now just barely hanging on her. Her lipstick was running down her face and her updo was completely undone. She looked like she’d been having sex in the room. And when a man followed closely behind her, zipping up his trousers, I knew they definitely had been.
“Is this an orgy?” I looked at River again.
“Some people partake in orgies.”
“Do you?” I swallowed. I didn’t know why I asked, but I was curious.
“I have.”
“Will you tonight?”
“Do you want to?”
“Do I want to participate in an orgy?” I blinked. “Absolutely not.”
“Then I won’t either.” He chuckled. “You are my guest, after all.”
“Which is exactly why I assume you have something planned for me. Mayra seems to have an idea as to why I’m here.”
“Why do you think you’re here?”
“I don’t know.” I bit my lip, still looking at him. He was impossible to look away from. “I can’t help but think you want me, like actually want me, and I don’t understand why.”
“Come.” He offered me his hand. I looked at it for a moment before taking it and letting him lead me back into the party.
The moment we stepped away from the hallway, music blasted us. It was jarring. I looked around quickly, looked behind us, looked forward. Had it been playing all along? It was lively, a Cuban Son, to be exact. I only knew it because back in the day, we used to island hop—a little bachata in Dominican Republic, a little salsa in Puerto Rico, and a little Son in Cuba. Hearing it reminded me of my parents and thinking of them made me sad again, grief rolling through me like a wave. I thought of Wela, who said this was a celebration of life and that my father dying this week was a great honor. Of course, she’d meant Carnival back on Pan. I highly doubted she’d approve of my being here in Dolos, in the Caliban Manor, of all places.
“River,” a man with a British accent called out, walking toward us quickly. He was handsome, of Indian decent, with a full beard that covered most of his olive skin. He had wise brown eyes and I knew instantly he wanted to make some kind of sales pitch. “I’ve been looking for you. We still haven’t discussed the yachts.”
“Right.” River gave a nod. “Dev, this is Penelope. Penelope, this is Dev, an associate of mine.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Penelope.” Dev took my hand and pulled me to him, kissing me on either cheek. When he pulled away he gave me a once-over. “I know I don’t usually meddle in your personal life, but this one is a keeper, River.”
“I completely agree with you for once.” River’s hand squeezed mine as he looked at me. I felt my heart skip one beat too many.
“Shall we talk business? It’ll only take a moment,” Dev said.
“I’m okay. I should go find my friends anyway,” I said to River before looking over at Dev. “It was nice to meet you, Dev.”
“Pleasure was all mine.” He bowed slightly as I started to let go of River’s hand and walk away.
River held on to my hand and pulled me back to him, making my chest crash against his. “Don’t go into the white room.”
“Why not? Is that where the orgies take place?” I smiled at his scowl. “Maybe I’ll change my mind and decide to partake in something illicit after all.”
“Please don’t go in there.” The plea in his eyes was enough to make me yield any warning from him, so I simply nodded slowly.
“I won’t.”
He let go of my arm and turned his attention back to Dev as I walked away and spotted Dee and the rest of my friends.
“This party is amazing,” she said, setting down her empty glass on a tray walking by.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Not much.”
“Alcohol hits differently here,” Martín said.
“You said that about Pan.” I eyed him, his glass, and then Jose and his date’s.
“Yeah, well, it hits even harder here,” Martín said, his words slurred. “You haven’t uploaded any more pictures.”
“I will soon. I have to edit them. I just took them this morning.”
“I’m going back into the white room,” Jose said, grabbing his date’s hand.
“What’s going on in that room?”
“Orgies,” Dee said. “Gay, straight, whatever. It’s interesting.”
“You went in there?” My head whipped back to her.
“Just to watch. Martín doesn’t want to take his clothes off here.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’m wearing an Oscar de la Renta tux. One of a kind. I don’t know who will see it and take it,” he said. “The man is dead. It’s not like he can make me another.”
“That is actually totally understandable.” I shrugged a shoulder.
“Who designed the dress you’re wearing?” Dee asked, taking it in again. “It’s so gorgeous and it looks like it was made for you.”
“Carolina Herrera.”
“Wow,” Dee whispered, reaching out and touching the silk fabric. “Just wow.”
“Yours is beautiful too.” I smiled.
“Jenny Polanco.” She winked. “We met Sarah Caliban earlier. She’s wearing a Polanco piece as well.”
“What’d you think?” I looked between Dee and Martín.
“Honestly? It’s creepy after knowing the story,” Martín said.
“They both look way too young for their age,” Dee added. “Do you think they’re vampires?”
“Vampires?” I laughed, then sobered up. I couldn’t take any more magic talk. “Please tell me you’re jo
king.”
“Kind of. I mean, this house is so dark, only lit by gas lamps like we’re in the 1920s, and they’re so young-looking. How else do you explain it?”
“I can’t.” I shrugged.
“They’re rich,” Martín said. “Not rich like us, rich like point eight percent of the world rich. I think they do look their age, but they’re devoid of the stress that others would have, so their skin is less wrinkled.”
“Maybe,” Dee said, though her expression was dubious. I agreed with her.
“During one of the tours of Pan Island,” Martín started, “the guide said Wilfred’s first wife died in the ocean trying to get back to Pan Island. They said that’s the reason the ocean between Dolos Island and Pan is so angry.”
“That’s . . . ” Dee shivered. “I don’t want to think about drowning.”
“Same. Let’s talk about something else before my head explodes,” I said. “Have you been to any of the other rooms, or is it just this dance area and the white room that are open?”
“I think I only saw that one,” Dee said. “I just want to dance anyway. I don’t want to explore more of the house. Who knows what lurks here.” She shivered visibly.
“You can always go to the white room and check it out while we dance, Penny.” Martín winked.
“I’m not sure I want to. I mean, I definitely don’t want to join an orgy. This is a one-of-a-kind Carolina Herrera, after all.” I winked back. Martín and Dee laughed.
“Well, we are going to dance,” Dee announced, reaching for Martín’s hand, then mine. “Join us.”
“I’m fine right here. You two have fun.” I smiled as she handed me a drink she’d grabbed from another waiter.
I walked closer to the band, watching as they played and sang as I sipped the drink in my hand. When I finished with it, I decided to explore. The thought of walking through the house alone spooked me, but there were too many people here for a scream to go unnoticed. At least that was what I told myself as I walked down the dark hall and found myself opening the first familiar door.
Fables & Other Lies Page 12