~~
The images stay in my thoughts. I breathe them in, allowing their truth to fill me. There is only one way to remind Kiera of her promises, her fealty.
Remove temptation.
Jenna smiles wistfully. She reaches her hands out to me as the air between us grows tight. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Really. She thought I was dead. I don’t know why I expected her to wait.” The lie drips convincingly from my lips. I take Jenna’s hand in mine. “Thank you again. For everything.”
I bring her hand to my mouth, kissing it softly. The same current runs through me, mixing with the fury simmering below the surface.
“You’d better get back before someone misses you. I don’t want you to get into trouble on my account.”
“You’re right.” She lowers her head and turns. “You aren’t going to do anything foolish, are you?”
“Of course not,” I answer, forcing a smile that I know must look grisly. Another lie.
She hesitates at the door, glancing at me over her shoulder. “I can trust you, right?”
“Jenna, I’m obviously in no condition to go anywhere. I’ll be here.” Willing the smile to reach my eyes, I hold her gaze. “I promise.”
She stares through me, ignoring the rage and madness. Ignoring the cursed mask my face has become. She sees the real me.
And maybe Kiera will as well.
“I’ll be back tonight with food and fresh linens.” Jenna releases a slow breath, still locked in my gaze.
I close the distance between us. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” She has always been loyal to me. My disfigurement, the monster that lurks beneath my face, it has not dissuaded her. I lean in and kiss her check. The air crackles as my longing again stirs. I push the thoughts aside and watch her walk away without a word.
In her absence, my thoughts flood with vengeance. For Mother. And now for James. He has stolen a piece of my soul, and he will pay.
With his life.
Yes, now is the time. Take your revenge.
The voices start as a whisper in my mind. I ignore them and leave the stables. I need to see Kiera.
I must make her see me.
The walk feels long as the sun drops below the horizon. My legs shake from fatigue and lack of food. Doubt fills in the void left by the chorus of voices urging death. Only my heart pushes me forward.
“You are stronger than you realize, Ien Montgomery. You always have been.” Sister Anne appears before me, thin and wispy.
I move out of her path, unwilling to acknowledge her existence.
“Jenna was wrong about James. Wrong about everything. Kiera still belongs to you. You simply must show her that you’re alive.”
I stop mid-step. I want to ignore her, but her words stir a deep need.
“Go convince Kiera that you haven’t changed. Show her that your face does not define you.”
But it does.
I reach for the barely-there figure of Sister Anne, hoping there is substance beyond the vision. My hand passes through her as I knew it would and I shake my head in disappointment.
“Trust your heart, Ien.”
I edge past the apparition.
“She still loves you. Claim your right to her. Make her remember.”
Sister Anne’s words chill me to the bone. I touch my face, comfortable now with its horrid contours.
“Can you see past this, Kiera?” I whisper.
She promised herself to only you.
The choir of voices swells from deep within me, repeating the phrase over and over. I walk, unable to resist my urgings.
Take her for yourself. Make her remember her promise.
The memories of her touch, her kiss, reach through me, compelling me forward.
~~
The hedge that outlines Whitehall’s conservatory looks different now. Gone are the seedpods and sticks. The bush is in bloom, full of sticky sweet blossoms and pollen. I tighten my hold on my cloak and push my way through the bush, straining to see inside. The world is bathed in dusky hues. Long shadows shield my appearance as I stare through the window at my beloved.
Kiera stands next to the piano, stroking her bow with rosin in a mesmerizing rhythm. Back and forth. Back and forth. Nothing about her has changed. Not the length of her hair, nor the spark in her eyes.
And not her promises to you.
She puts her rosin away and grabs her violin, carefully fitting it between her chin and shoulder. She draws a perfect note. And another. I place my hands on the window, feeling the sounds through the glass. There is a longing held with the music that unleashes a familiar hunger.
The song continues in a pattern of familiar infections and cadences, drawing me closer.
“You haven’t forgotten,” I whisper.
Every note of our song is the same, every melody exactly as I remember. And yet, there is something missing. We are two halves of the same whole. My heart reaches for her, desperate to complete the duet. Complete myself.
I close my eyes, allowing the music to transform me. It fills every cell, every crevice with a desperate need—one that can only be filled by her. I am held prisoner by the notes as they linger, barely breathing.
“The song suits you.”
The deep tones of his unwelcome voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“Thank you. It’s still my favorite piece, even with everything that has happened. I wish he could have heard it performed. He would’ve liked that, I think.” Her voice cracks and I am undone.
“I’m sure he would have.”
James.
He has no right to guess what I would’ve liked. No right to even be with Kiera now. My shoulders tighten and my stomach cramps, unable to handle the anguish building through me. I peer inside.
“The song isn’t quite right yet.” A furtive grin covers her face. “It isn’t complete.” She walks to James and takes his hands in hers. “It’s meant to be a duet.”
“What are you doing?” Rage absorbs my words, my hands grip the window’s ledge.
“Please James, play it with me.” Kiera tilts her head. I know the look held in her eyes.
“Me?” James chuckles. “Hardly. I’m not trained. I could never do the song justice.”
I can’t think, move, breathe.
“I don’t care. Come on, just play it with me. Please.” Her lips curl into a slight pout.
The scene speeds into a frantic spin.
“Okay, but just for you.” James pulls her into a tight embrace.
Voices consume my thoughts, coaxing me to action.
He has betrayed you.
They both have.
My world unravels, folding in on itself.
Force her to honor her promise.
Take her as yours.
Kill the boy.
The voices get louder and louder. I push away from the window, turn and run, unable to withstand the onslaught of noise and images. Sister Anne appears everywhere, taunting me, her voice weaving in and out of the ever-present chorus.
“Make them see the real you.”
Kiera, she is yours.
“You are not your face.”
She will only see your deformities. James will make certain of that.
“She loves you still.”
She will never love you.
The phrases slide in and out of my thoughts, mixing with the cacophony of noise. Everything spins with the sounds. Bile coats my senses as I try to find something tangible to grasp, some shred of reality to cling to.
It’s too late.
I run faster and faster, back through the woods and away from Kiera and James, away from the life I can never have, away from the words that never end. The trees loom around me, their trunks casting long shadows that consume me.
The faster I run, the louder the words, the taller the trees. It all presses in, suffocating me. I can hear nothing save the voices, see nothing but Kiera and James embracing. I collapse under the weight
of my disillusionment, falling into the bed of needles that coats the forest floor.
I am nothing more than this curse, this deformity. Broken and overcome by madness. I am not worthy of Kiera now.
She has betrayed you.
I cannot force her to love what I’ve become.
She promised herself to you. Forever.
I will not.
A battle wages within as I am shredded by what I need and the truth of what I’ve become.
“Trust in her, Ien. Trust in your love.” Sister Anne’s voice rises up from the din, clear. Firm. “Tell her you are alive. Make her see what lies beneath the scars.”
“I can’t. I won’t.” My body trembles. “I’m nothing but a monster now.”
“Trust me, Ien. Go to her. Reveal yourself.”
The tempest grows.
Take her. Force her.
Sister Anne’s words, the choir of insanity, they fuse and merge, coiling around my heart. Without Kiera, I am nothing but this growing madness.
“Let her heal you.”
She belongs to only you.
The storm peaks and I am forced to admit a horrible truth. Kiera will love me again, one way or another.
She
must…
26.
“You must know that I am made of death, from head to foot,
and it is a corpse who loves and adores you
and will never, never leave you!”
~Gaston Leroux (The Phantom of the Opera)
~
The truth settled around Ien like a heavy yoke. He needed Kiera to make him whole. She was like a drug to him, and one way or another, he would be satiated.
“Are you ready?” Sister Anne appeared in front of him. She looked solid, real.
He reached out to her, feeling the fabric of her habit. The cloth crinkled under his touch. Ien’s mind spun with possibilities. A part of him knew she was an illusion, but his senses said something different. And right now, he needed her to be real.
“What if she can’t see past this?” Ien guided Sister Anne’s hand to his face.
“She will.”
“And James, what about him?” The mere thought of his friend’s betrayal threatened to unhinge Ien again. “And Mother.”
Ien wanted retribution for every betrayal. Mother’s. James’s. He craved it almost as much as he craved Kiera.
“Things are seldom as bad as they seem.”
In this case, things were worse.
Ien turned away, desperate to change a future he feared was already lost.
“Do you trust me?” Sister Anne asked.
Silence filled the expanse surrounding him.
“Do you trust me?”
Her words were haunting, reminding him of…
“Yes,” he whispered. He had no choice.
“Then go back to the concert hall and talk with her. Show yourself to her, all of you. No bandages, no masks.”
Ien opened his mouth to protest, but the sister’s words cut him off.
“Make her see past your face. Past her doubts.”
Ien shook his head. Kiera would never willingly be his.
“Claim her as your own.” Her tone sent a chill rippling through him.
Yes yes yes.
The chorus of voices chanted as Sister Anne spoke. The sound fed his desire, his obsession.
“Now go. Take your life back.”
Ien nodded and turned back to force the destiny he craved.
~
The concert hall felt different now. There was no excitement, no spark of electricity like he had felt so many times before. Something had changed.
Kiera.
Ien glanced around. The hall was silent save the faint sound of a violin playing an all too familiar melody. He walked to the wings, pushing himself into the shadows, and listened.
Kiera, violin in hand, worked the notes of their song with a deliberation all wrong for the piece. There was no passion, no pain; none of the emotions Ien had poured into the music so many months ago.
“Stop. Stop,” Kiera said to her accompanist. “The motifs are wrong. You’re supposed to follow my lead, be aggressive with the music, but not overpowering.” Kiera huffed in frustration.
Ien smiled. Kiera had felt the problem too. Good.
“But I’m playing it as it’s written, Miss. Exactly as it’s written.”
Ien bit back the response lodging in his throat.
“Just do it again, keeping in mind what I said. There is no point in playing this if it isn’t going to be right.”
They played the melody again with disastrous results. Over and over they played the measures. And over and over, Kiera barked orders at her pianist, her voice tense. She clenched her jaw as she played and forced the melody. Glaring at her accompanist, she stopped the music with a screech, breaking a string on her violin.
“You know, I think we might as well call it a night. It’s late.” Kiera placed her instrument in its case and turned away.
The pianist grabbed his music. “I think the song sounds lovely, Miss McDougal. Your performance will be great.”
Kiera was silent as he left the stage.
The stage manager climbed the forward stairs to Kiera. “You know he’s right, Kiera. The piece sounds good. You’re just too hard on everyone.”
Kiera shook her head. “Thanks Henry. But really, you’re not exactly a music expert. This has to be perfect, and right now…” She released a heavy sigh. “Right now it’s not even close.”
Ien loved the passion Kiera had for her music. It was a quality they both shared as artists. A relentless pursuit of perfection.
“You’re going to stay and keep practicing aren’t you? I swear you’re going to wear out your fingers at this rate.”
Kiera laughed, unleashing a wave of longing in Ien. “Well, I have to get this right, don’t I?”
“You have nothing to worry about. But, I know you won’t take my word for it. The rest of us are leaving, so be sure to lock up when you go.”
“I will.”
“You have someone to walk you home, right? Maybe that boyfriend of yours?”
The faint red color rising in Kiera’s cheeks stabbed at Ien’s heart. “Yes, Henry. James is coming to get me soon.”
The stage manager shook his head as the few remaining stage hands laughed and cat-called.
“Henry,” Kiera said. “Thanks.”
“Any time, ma’am,” the stage manager said as he and the rest of the crew left.
Kiera paced across the stage and sighed. “This is never going to be right.”
Ien’s heart screamed in his ears. He stared, the crescendo of desire building to unfathomable heights. Kiera reached up to her hair and released it from its bindings. Copper curls cascaded down her back. Ien swallowed hard, imagining the feel of her hair against his fingers. He took a deep breath and sighed. The familiar sweet honey scent of her skin filled his senses.
Almost.
Don’t rush.
Don’t scare her.
He couldn’t tell whose voice was speaking, his or the others. He didn’t care. At this moment, there was only room for Kiera in his thoughts.
She replaced the string in her violin then attempted the concerto again. Her notes were flawless, yet empty. There was no substance to the music, no emotion. “Uhh! Why can’t I get this right?” She slumped onto the piano bench and fingered the notes.
The stage lights reflected off of Kiera’s milky skin. Ien trembled, his breath coming in short spurts. He couldn’t take anymore. He had to take her. Now. He stepped from the curtain wings, still hidden under the cover of shadows criss-crossing the stage.
He cleared his throat. “Kiera,” he said in a quiet whisper. His voice quivered with her name.
“I wish you were here, Ien.”
“I am.” His words died on his tongue.
“You’d know how to help me find the story in the music again. Our music.” Kiera wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. She l
ooked in Ien’s direction and smiled. “I need you here with me. I can’t play this without you. It’ll never sound right without you.” Her voice dropped, scarcely more than air passing from her lips. “Why did I say I’d play this song? It’s nothing without you.” A small sob escaped her lips. “Why did you have to die? I need you.”
The longing in her voice matched Ien’s. It coiled around him, coaxing him forward. He stepped onto the stage, staying hidden from view. “I’m here, Kiera. I’m here.”
Startled, Kiera stood. “Who's there?” she asked. “Show yourself.”
“Don’t be frightened. I won’t hurt you. I just…” Ien choked on his words. He settled his thoughts and stared straight into her eyes. “I just needed to see you again.”
Her eyebrows pinched together like she was attempting an impossible puzzle. She stared into the shadows, looking for the source of the voice. Nothing.
Shaking her head, she straightened up and tightened her shoulders. “You can’t be here,” she said into the darkness. “Whoever you are, you need to leave. Now.”
Ien smiled. He always liked it when she acted tough. He knew the fear that hid underneath her bravado. “It’s me, Kiera. Ien.”
Kiera’s legs buckled for a moment. She grabbed the piano. Her complexion looked almost translucent. “No. No. No.” She shook her head. “You’re dead,” she said through gritted teeth. “This is just my imagination.” She turned away.
Ien took a tentative step towards her, still hiding in the shadows. “It’s not your imagination. I’m here. I’m really here.”
She turned back to Ien, her eyes damp. “James, is that you? Stop fooling about. You’re scaring me.”
The mention of James dug into Ien’s heart. He stepped out of the shadows a few feet from Kiera, the hood of his cloak shrouding his face. “I’m not James.”
The color drained from Kiera’s face as she stepped backwards.
One step.
And another.
The scene froze for what felt like an eternity before the air split with the sound of Kiera’s scream.
“No! You’re dead. I know you’re dead.” Her body shook as she backed away. “I went to your funeral. I placed a rose on your casket and watched as they secured it in the crypt.” Kiera swallowed back another sob. Tears streamed down her face as her knees gave way. She fell onto the bench with a thud. “This isn’t real. It can’t be.” She buried her face into her hands and cried.
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