by A. E. Davis
“Viktor, I’m not kidding. Pull over this instant.”
“No.”
Riled up, I was going to let him have it, but the look he gave me silenced any further protest. Silently fuming, I sat back in my seat and stared at the blurring rain- soaked landscape. “Can you at least slow down?”
“Sure.” He let off the gas and the truck slowed considerably.
“Is it safe to talk to you yet or are you still looking for your mind that you have obviously lost?” I asked smartly.
His lips tugged upward. “Go for it.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Home.”
“WH—What?” I screeched. “Why would you do that?”
“You asked me to.”
“I did no such a thing.”
“Sure you did.”
“Fine. I’ll bite.” I crossed my arms, getting even madder.
He glanced over at me, smirking. “Really?”
“Really, what?” I threw up my hands in exasperation.
“You bite?” His brow hitched up a notch.
“Yeah,” I deadpanned. “Don’t you?”
“That’s a loaded question. You sure you want the answer?”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” I yelled getting irritated again. “Just answer my question.”
“Which one?” he asked calmly.
“Where are you taking me?”
“I already told you. I’m taking you home.”
“I didn’t ask you to take me home.”
“Sure you did.”
“Didn’t we just have this conversation?”
“Yep.”
I tried a different tactic. “So you are taking me home because you somehow heard me ask you to take me there. Even though I didn’t,” I muttered angrily.
He exhaled heavily and shot me an exasperated look. “I told you to go home. You said you couldn’t because your clothes were wet. So, I am taking you to my house so you can get some dry clothes.”
I gaped at him in shock. How the heck did he get that out of what I said? I shook my head. “I don’t want to go to your house.”
“Too bad.”
“So you’re kidnapping me?”
“I wouldn’t call it that. I am merely helping a friend out.” He glanced over at me, smiling.
My breath caught in my throat. A smile from Viktor was a lot like the staring up at the sun. You couldn’t stare at it for too long or else you would go blind. I turned away before I did something stupid—like drool all over myself.
“You can wear something of Viola’s.”
“I don’t want to wear anything of Viola’s,” I said grumpily.
“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll give you my clothes.”
For some reason, when he said “my clothes” my mind went straight to the gutter.
His grin grew. “Not literally,” he amended, smirking.
“I knew that,” I snapped.
“If you say so,” he said with laughter lingering in his voice.
I felt like knocking that smirk from his face or kissing it from him…my betraying mind taunted me.
His shoulders shook.
I looked up at his face. He was laughing. Mortified he somehow heard my thoughts, I ripped my eyes from his face as my own burned with heat and stared back out the windshield. The wipers slapped water off the glass as a long silence ensued stretching between us like an impenetrable wall.
thirty two
The rain slowed considerably, turning into a light drizzle. As soon as he turned in his driveway, I started freaking out all over again. How was I going to explain being here with him to Vincent?
“Don’t worry, no one is here,” he said, as though he read my thoughts again.
I didn’t bother asking how he knew what I was thinking.
Turning into the imposing gates, he pulled down the long driveway and parked in the circle in front of the stairs.
The house was as eerily fascinating now as it had been the first time I had seen it. Imposing, majestic and frightening all rolled into one. It looked as though hundreds of voices from the past would whisper through the corridors and halls of the ancient yet beautifully crafted structure. It literally took my breath away.
“It’s rather daunting, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes,” I agreed wholeheartedly, staring up at his ginormous Victorian house that looked like it should be in one of those period horror movies.
He pulled his keys from the ignition and opened his door.
“Amber…”
“Yeah,” I said distractedly as my eyes climbed upward over the fading clapboard siding past the large dark shutters to the peaks up at the top and finally landed on a circular window in the center. It was a lot like mine, only bigger. An image appeared, shadowed but still very visible. I couldn’t decide if it was a trick of the light or if someone was actually standing there, watching. A shiver of unease flitted over me. “Are you sure no one is here?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I think someone is up there?” I pointed.
Viktor leaned down and looked up through his windshield. “I don’t see anyone.”
I looked back to the window, but whatever or whoever I thought I saw, was now gone. “Must be seeing things,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“Must be.” He gave me a strange look. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, I opened my door and climbed out. The smell of moldy leaves and damp earth greeted me, pulling thoughts of dire things to the forefront of my mind. I shivered again and wrapped my arms around my stomach.
Viktor walked up beside me and looked up at his house. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“It’s beautiful.”
He glanced over at me with a look of surprise. “I think so, too. I love old houses, especially ones like this. It has good bones.”
“Yeah, I can see that. There is a bit of a creepy vibe to it, though,” I admitted, still feeling uneasy.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I doubt that.”
He chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get you some dry clothes.”
“Okay.” I followed him up the steep wooden stairs to a large black door with an ugly creature’s face for a knocker. “What’s that supposed to be?”
“The knocker?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at me.
I shook my head, yes.
“Not sure.”
“Oh.”
He turned back around to unlock the door.
A few dried leaves not yet wet from the rain scraped across the porch in the wind—it sounded like fingernails were scratching the wooden planks under my feet.
Viktor opened the door and stepped to the side so I could go in first. I took a bracing breath and stepped over the threshold. Even though I had been here before, it did nothing to prepare me for what I saw once inside the foyer. There was a large sweeping wooden staircase with a carved wooden banister that ran along an entire wall, wrapping upward, continuing on to another level—one I couldn’t see from my vantage point. There were lots of antiques too—they looked old as dirt. Again, I was reminded of my Grandmother’s house—she was a hoarder. And just like her house, a closed up smell resonated in the air.
Viktor shut the door.
I flinched from the sound.
“I don’t remember it looking like this,” I said.
“Nothing’s changed,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess.” Actually, it didn’t look like anything had changed for centuries. When he flicked on the light, I looked up at the massive crystal chandelier suspended above me.
“You want to call your mom?”
“Huh?”
His brows creased. “Earth to Amber.” He waved his hand in front of my face.
“What did you say?”
“Do you want to call your mom?”
“What for?” I asked stupidly.
“To let her know you’ll be late getting home?”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess.”
&n
bsp; He lifted his brows, waiting. “Amber, are you going to call her?”
“I don’t have my phone.”
“There’s one right there.” He pointed over to an ancient phone with a rotary dial. It looked like it should be in a museum.
“Does that thing even work?”
“Obviously.” He chuckled and shook his head.
I walked over to it, lifted the receiver to my ear, and was surprised it had a dial tone. I dialed my number. Mom answered on the third ring, sounding breathless. “Mom,” I said.
“Amber, where are you? I’ve been worried sick.”
“Sorry, Mom. I got caught in the storm and had to pull over.” That was partially true—well kind of.
“Where are you?”
“Um, I’ll be home soon,” I evaded her question.
“All right,” she sighed. “Hurry up. Ken’s making dinner.”
“Oh, cool. I’ll be home soon.”
“Kay, honey.”
“Bye Mom.”
“See you soon.”
“Yep. See you, soon.” I gently hung back up the phone and turned back to Viktor. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, giving me a bemused look.
“What?”
His lips twitched. “Nothing.”
My eyes drifted past Viktor’s left shoulder to the wall behind him and did a double take. There was a portrait of a young man in dated clothing. “Is that you?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Nah, that’s one of my ancestors.”
“You look just like him…well, except he’s wearing some funky old clothes.”
His lips twitched again, like something I said amused him. “Yeah, his clothes are pretty dated. But he was ahead of his time.”
“Was he?” It was weird. Seeing Viktor standing in front of portrait that was easily centuries old looking pretty much the same as the guy in the picture. It was more than a little freaaky.
“Yeah, he invented a bunch of stuff and even dabbled in alchemy. He even had a laboratory. It’s down in the basement.”
“Was he a mad scientist?” I asked jokingly.
“He was many things. Not all of them good.”
“Oh.” That shut me up.
“He’s my namesake.”
“What?”
“My parents named me after him,” he explained. His eyes glittered again, like he was amused about something and I felt like I was what was amusing him.
“Oh.” I took a deep breath, once again feeling strangely unsettled.
“Let’s get you out of those clothes.”
“What?” I gaped at him.
He shook his head and chuckled. “Amber, I was going to give you clothes to wear, remember?”
“Oh right.” My eyes drifted back to the portrait.
Viktor walked over to the stairs and put his hand on the railing. “You coming?”
“Right, sure.” I tore my gaze away from the portrait and followed him up the winding staircase to the second level. When I got to the landing at the top, I noticed the stairs continued up to another level and there was a long hallway stretched out to my left and also to my right.
“My rooms are down here.” He pointed towards the hall on the left.
“What’s up there?”
“Vincent’s rooms.”
“Rooms?”
“Yeah, he has a few.”
“A few,” I repeated, instantly curious.
“Yeah, we all do.”
“Oh.”
He looked over his shoulder. “This is my wing.” He continued down the hall, the sound of his footsteps muted on the dark patterned runner carpet.
“Where are Viola’s rooms?” Not that I cared but I felt like I should say something.
“Her rooms are down the opposite hallway.”
“And where are your parent’s rooms?”
“They are in a completely different wing of the house.”
“How big is this place?” I asked more to myself than to him.
“Pretty big,” he said offhandedly over his shoulder.
There were several closed doors that we passed and I had a sudden urge to open them all and look to see what was behind them. “All of these are yours?”
“Most of them,” he answered.
“Wow.” It was the only word I could manage as I continued down the long dark paneled hallway. There were hall tables with lamps placed intermittently against the walls, between doors, giving off very little illumination.
Viktor stopped outside a pair of imposing double doors at the end of the hall that were easily fifteen feet tall. He was at least six feet tall and looked small in comparison.
“Here’s my room.” He grabbed two handles and pushed open the doors. They swung forward with an eerie creaking sound that immediately sent shivers cascading down my spine.
“Ladies first.” He extended out his arm.
I had a hard time getting my feet to move. “Thanks,” I said forcing myself forward. I stepped into his room and my eyes widened in awe. There were no posters on the walls or the normal things you would expect to see in a boy’s room. Instead, in the middle of the room, there was a huge four post carved wooden bed with heavy red velvet curtains hanging down from the top, pulled back on the sides facing floor to ceiling windows that covered the back wall giving a breathtaking view of the sky, trees, and ocean in the distance. It totally messed with my equilibrium and made me feel like I was standing on the precipice of a mountain or a cliff with nothing beneath me but dead air. Expelling a pent up breath, I took a tentative step forward. “It’s amazing.” I spun around and my breath caught.
Viktor was leaning against the doorframe with an unreadable expression on his beautiful face. “It’s adequate.”
“Are you crazy?” I twirled around. “I feel like I am standing in the middle of a fairytale.” I lifted my arms and placed my hands on my head, trying to take in as much as I could as my eyes devoured everything in the room, to store it all away so I could remember it forever. The ceilings were tall and there was a desk cattycornered on the side of the room, with a high back leather chair in front and one of those green, glass-shaded lamps that I’d seen once in an old library.
To my left another pair of doors was open and I walked over them. My breath whooshed from my chest as I stared in awe into the room. Just as his room had floor to ceiling windows, this room had floor to ceiling shelves lined with books and a huge mural painted on the ceiling that was even more spectacular than the view I had just seen.
“Do you like my library?”
Startled, I spun around.
Viktor was right behind me, again his face an unreadable mask.
“It’s …it’s…” I flustered. “There are no words to describe this…” I waved out my hand to encompass the most incredible room I had ever seen with my own eyes. “I could get lost in here for days,” I said.
“I doubt that.”
“Oh, but I could. If this was mine, I’m afraid I would never leave.”
“You would…eventually.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I would want to.”
He walked past me and opened a set of heavy velvet curtains, which gave the same breathtaking view that was in his room. He reached down, opened a pair of glass doors, and stepped out onto a balcony. A gust of cool air flowed into the room. I followed him, dragging my fingers across the spines of several books on my way out. He had his hands braced on the railing, looking out into the distance. I stepped up beside him, feeling so many things I couldn’t even imagine putting them into any coherent order. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
He tilted his head and looked down at me, his expression contemplative. “I’m glad you like it.”
“How could I not. This is absolutely the most breathtaking, amazingly awesome place I have ever seen.” I shook my head feeling stupid because it was so much more than that. “I can’t find enough words to describe it.”
His lips tilted upward into a slow smile. “I think yo
u did a pretty good job.”
“Not really.” I rubbed my arms, staring off in the distance. “Is all this land your families?”
“Most of it,” he said and lifted his hand, pointing. “See the end of the tree-line there?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Right before the ocean?”
“That’s where it stops.”
“Wow. How many acres is that?”
“About seven hundred in all,” he said. “We used to own a lot more, but one of my ancestors sold it to the park for five dollars an acre.”
“What? That’s insane.”
He shrugged. “At least it’s protected, now.”
“Protected?”
“Yeah, they put a caveat on the sale of the land and now it can’t be developed.”
“That’s awesome. I hate sprawl. It ruins the integrity of the land, you know. Back home, I used to live around a lot of farmland and then little by little, bit by bit, they sold off the larger plots to developers and now instead of views of rolling farmland with cattle and produce, is what I call suburbia hell.”
“Suburbia hell?” He lifted his brow in question.
“Yeah. There’s a bunch of cookie-cutter houses and if you accidentally make a wrong turn into one of the developments, you can’t find your way out because everything looks exactly the same. It sucks.”
His eyes glittered with amusement.
“What?” I bumped his shoulder.
“You’re funny.”
“Funny, ha, ha or …”
“You’re cute. I like your word choices.”
My face flamed with heat even though I was freezing. “Thanks, I think.”
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you changed into something warmer.”
“All right,” I sighed and took one last look at the incredible view. Reluctantly, I turned and followed him back into the library. Once again, I was amazed at how many books were in the room. “How many books do you have?”
“I have a small library so there’s only few thousand or so, books in here.”
“You call this small?” I gaped at him.
“Yeah, we have a larger one on the lower level that has more.”
“Where’d did you get them all?”
“They have been handed down from generation to generation.”
I shook my head, trying to digest that. “Have you read them all?”