Sophie felt a twinge of guilt for leaving their guests with Rose. Rose had volunteered though, needing a break from the endless events, she’d been running, and Sophie had needed to get away from the two women she was fast becoming friends with before they picked at her emotions about Sylvain. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the mansion and began checking the details for the dinner. There wasn’t a wedding planned. It was a homecoming of sorts. For the first time in months, all the Coffin Girls would be home together, along with Raulf, Niul, and Conall. Sylvain had been invited too, but she doubted he would come. It had been nearly a month since she had seen him, since he had walked away from the mission at its completion without another word. That had stung. She had nursed some hope that he would perhaps come around. He had certainly been flirtatious enough and she had been lying to herself at that stage - telling herself that she needed distance when all she had truly wanted was to be engulfed by him, and soaked in the love she so badly craved from him.
At first, she’d hoped that their relationship was on new ground – tentative but promising. She’d waited and waited, but had heard nothing from him. Eventually she had to accept that whatever they’d had between them was not enough to last. It was the push she had needed to move on. Oh, it had been hard, excruciatingly so. At times, she didn’t know if she was manic or mad, depressed or just plain tired. She had cried many times, alone, in silence, and in the comforting arms of Miss Suzette.
Eventually, as days went by without a word from him, that had changed. Yes, she had gone through denial, anger, bargaining, and then finally, acceptance. Acceptance that her mother’s wish would be fulfilled, that she could and would find love out there. The kind of love that was returned, cherished, and nurtured. It was her deal breaker. She had accepted her gift. She shook her head at her thoughts as she placed a delicate lily in a vase. It seemed strange to even think it. Yes, she had known that she had a gift and from a young age. Her mother had seen to it that she’d had initial training before they were ripped apart. She had used her gift until it had been bound upon entering the convent in France. She had used it again when it became unbound when she had become a vampire. She had entered into training with Arianna with zeal that consumed her and fired her thirst to know more. But through all of that, she hadn’t accepted it as who she was. It had always been something separate to her - sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse. And, she'd had doubts. Dieu! Did she have doubts! She had doubted her ability to correctly use her gift; doubted her ability to control her gift.
Sometime during that dark hour of pain, she had finally realized and accepted that she was an empath, witch, vampire, Coffin Girl, sister, daughter, tutor, friend, and even wedding planner. She had seen the many roles she played and how they wove together to create the ultimate role she played - the role of Sophie. The most startling realization was that she could see herself as lover too - a sensual woman able to enjoy and return emotional and physical love to a man. Given her history with men, it felt like her greatest accomplishment. Yes, she did not have a lover yet. She wasn’t in a rush. The unshakeable hope she felt was powerful enough to allow her to wait with confidence.
With these thoughts, she rolled her shoulders and relished in the absence of the twinge that tension brought to them. Sophie smiled. It was beatific and yes, she acknowledged her beauty too, and felt no shame in that. She cast her eyes over the formal dining room, and smiled widely. Tonight she would welcome her sisters and friends home. She would nurture them and give them love. It would not be the dutiful response of the past, but one given freely and confidently.
“Sophie, would you get the door,” Miss Suzette hollered. Her booming voice travelled through the ground level of the house, attacking Sophie’s sensitive hearing. Miss Suzette must have realized what she had done because Sophie heard a softer, “sorry," follow quickly.
She smiled at that. Miss Suzette was as anxious as she was to have everything perfect for the dinner. Rose was in the worst state out of the three. Sophie had eventually sent her off to collect the enormous amount of gifts from the baby stores in New Orleans. The dinner would also serve as a baby shower. Sophie grinned wryly. It was unconventional to have the guys there, but the games she'd planned for the after-dinner baby shower would work. They wouldn’t know what had hit them.
“Sophie,” Miss Suzette interrupted her musings. “The door.”
“Sorry,” Sophie called out. “On my way.”
And for the love of the Goddess, she found Sylvain standing in front of her.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Sylvain didn’t know what to say. He felt his mouth open, then close, and then open again. He had been designated to look like a guppy. He shook his head. Sophie was staring at him as though he were an ass and the last person on earth she wanted to see.. And, she was probably right, he berated himself. He had imagined this moment. He’d pictured her, serenely beautiful and happy to see him and not the pissed off, stunning, and angry woman in front of him. It was a new and humbling emotion and one he wasn’t too upset by because he understood it.
Recollecting himself, he handed Sophie a gift. “For the baby shower,” he said, awkwardly.
“Thank you,” Sophie motioned him inside, taking the beautifully wrapped box.
“Sorry,” Sylvain shook his head again, “let me start over. Hello Sophie.”
Sophie smiled tightly, the light not quite reaching her eyes. “Hello, Sylvain.” He was acting odd - nervous and the head shaking thing, while adorable, was weird. And, she told herself she could acknowledge that he was adorable even though he was a jackass-weasel-bastard who had broken her heart. She wouldn’t be a half-warm blooded supernatural woman if she didn’t feel something for him – he was an exceptionally pretty face after all.
“You’re a bit early,” she said, to break the awkwardness.
He inwardly winced. He had always been able to pop into the plantation and find a place to put himself. No matter what time he had arrived. Apparently, that had changed, although he did deserve that and more, he acknowledged.
“I would really like to speak with you, Sophie,” he explained. She remained silent and looked at him, her face unreadable. “Please?” He nearly begged, but thought it would be overkill.
“Sure,” she replied. “We can use the library.”
Sophie placed the baby shower gift on the large desk in the library. Sylvain entered behind her and she heard the door click shut. She might be a woman on a new path, she realized, but he could still pull all the right strings in her heart with just one look. There wasn’t the same pain this time though, but she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit to the regret and sadness that she felt.
Sylvain waved an arm to the chaise lounge near the window. Sophie accepted, because to not do so would be ungracious. It was unnerving though, she thought, as he sat beside her. The behavioral experts say that communication is mostly non-verbal. Well, they were talking shit. She was looking at this man, examining his behavior and she got diddly squat on the ‘what the hell is this about’ front.
“I need to apologize to you,” Sylvain finally broke the tense silence. “I should have come to speak with you sooner.”
“I was worried,” Sophie admitted. “We are, after all, still friends and allies,” Sophie lied, to save face.
“What?” He looked confused. “Oh, you mean after the mission? Well, yes. That too.”
“What did you mean?” Sophie asked, her brows knitted.
“Okay, let me start over. I’m making a mess of this,” Sylvain groaned in embarrassment.
Sophie nodded, bemusement curving her lips. This was a far cry from the normally dashing and mischievous fae prince. It was good to see him nervous and a bit odd. Sophie settled back to watch him squirm. She felt no guilt whatsoever. The jackass-weasel-bastard had broken her heart. A loud voice in her head pulled the emotions from her heart, reminded her that she had missed him, and that, perhaps, she should hear him out. Well, fuck
reason, she thought. She was a pissed off woman and deserved some begging and pleading from her man. Oh for the love of Dieu! Sophie chided herself. He was not her man! Just moments ago she was congratulating herself on her enormous progress, and then one stumbling apology from him - and yes he was the object of her affections - then she was back at ‘her man-ing’ him!
Sylvain must have misinterpreted her frown, because he sat silently, waiting for her. “Yes,” she prompted." She wanted to get this done with, so she could escape him until the house filled up with more people.
Sylvain went on to explain his absence since the mission. How he had realized his error in keeping his sister at a distance. “Marianne was a woman I loved with everything I was. I don’t know what happened with my sister, but something set her off. She lost it and let her Unseelie reign terror over the humans we then intermingled with. It was a blood bath and in the moments when blood didn’t run freely, it was chaos. I was away on a mission for the Goddess at the time, but when I heard her call, her pain, I returned. She was already dead. Sophie, Marianne was an empath like you. My sister neither killed her nor did she murder and torture the humans and Seelie who dared to get in the Unseelie’s way.”
“I sense a 'but' coming on,” Sophie interrupted.
Sylvain nodded. “The pain Marianne felt from those around her is what killed her. Remember the farmhouse stairs? How it affected you?” Sophie dipped her head. “Now, imagine that amplified by hundreds of thousands.”
“Dieu!” Sophie exclaimed. “The poor woman.”
“Yes, I thought so too,” Sylvain responded looking out at the space in front of him. “And you are right, it was a horrible way to die. But at the farmhouse, when we spoke of the woman’s final hours, I mentioned to you that there was a possibility that her last moments were ones of peace - not horror or resignation to death. I realized after the mission, when I thought back, that Marianne’s last moments could have been that way also. But more than that, it pushed me to really think about her death - about what had happened.” He turned to face her. “I’ve made peace with my sister. It is new still and we’ve been working on it for the past month, but we are making strides and I believe that the Seelie and Unseelie fae will once again be a common race. We’ll always have our differences, but we won’t be ruled as two separate groups by two feuding rulers.”
“So that’s why you’ve been absent,” Sophie noted.
“Yes,” he affirmed. “I wanted to talk to all of you, but mostly to you. I couldn’t though. I had to sort myself out first before speaking to you.”
Sophie felt hope stir, but pushed it away. “I understand,” she offered. “I have gone through my own transformation since then. I still wish you had at least phoned to tell me that you were working on some stuff, but that we’d speak soon.”
“But I did do that,” Sylvain argued ignoring his gut instinct that told him to shut up and take the heat.
“Yes, you did. But then I did not here from you for days! What was I supposed to think?!”
“You’re right,” he replied. “I should have been more thoughtful.”
“Yes you should have, but you are a guy and you’re a moron so let’s leave it at that. But,” Sophie continued, evidently not ‘leaving’ things ‘at that’. “Next time you leave a half-assed, cryptic note that like, be more specific, or do yourself a favor and pick up the goddamn phone!”
“Okay,” Sylvain agreed, his eyes wide with shock. A pissed off Sophie was not something he’d seen before, but when she got angry, she let you know it in no uncertain terms.
“But, as much as I hate,” she glared at him, “and I mean hate,” she emphasized the word, “to admit it, you were right Sylvain. I needed a complete break from you to learn some things about myself too.” She looked at him squarely, finding herself more confident in her own skin after letting off some steam. “That night when I told you of my husband...”
“Late husband,” he corrected.
“Late husband,” Sophie acknowledged, smiling at the memory of when he had said the same words. She began again, “You told me that night that I should not give up hope on fulfilling my mother’s deathbed wish. I believe you now. I don’t regret the time we had together, it showed me that I can truly love a man and the time we’ve spent apart has shown me that I can be loved.”
Alarm registered in his mind! “Are you with someone then?”
“Oh no,” Sophie laughed. “I meant that I have the hope of such a relationship. Our relationship might be over, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t find another and one where the love is equally returned.”
Sylvain’s relief dissipated. “I’m sorry I hurt you Sophie.”
“I’m not,” she smiled at him. “It was what I needed. I’m in a good place now. No, check that, I’m in a really great place now.” It was a smile of a quietly confident woman - one who was completely at ease in her own skin. It was the biggest turn on he had ever experienced.
“I brought this for you,” Sylvain handed her the other package he had been carrying around with him.
“I thought this was a gift you wanted to give personally to Anais and Conall,” Sophie took it, puzzlement showing on her face.
She moved to put it next to her when he placed a hand over hers to stop her. “Please will you open it?” Sylvain requested. “I’d like to know what you think.”
“Right now?” Sophie questioned.
“Please,” he urged.
Sophie shrugged and did as he bid, carefully removing the lid. Inside of it, was an elaborate mask made of white porcelain and colored in bold, bright tones that made one smile. “The face of a joker,” she pinpointed.
“That’s my first mask,” Sylvain explained. “It is the one most people see first, and the one you saw through.”
Sophie looked at him. “What are you saying?”
“I’ll explain later,” he replied. “Tell me what you think about it.”
“It is beautiful,” Sophie fingered the mask. “Is it fae…” The question caught. She picked up the mask and another was beneath it. This mask was a complete contrast to the other. It was made of solid wood and steel. It exuded primal strength and bravery.
“My second mask,” Sylvain stated, “that of a warrior.”
“Given your role and our alliance, it is an essential mask,” Sophie observed.
“Yes,” Sylvain acquiesced, “but it isn’t all of me.”
Curious, Sophie lifted it out and placed it in the lid of the box, on top of the other. She discovered masks symbolizing his sovereignty, his alliance with the witches and vampires, his role as brother, and a mask denoting a scholar. It was the last object that caught her breath. Beneath all the masks lay a heart, although that was inadequate for the enormous heart-shaped ruby that glistened from the bottom of the box.
“No more masks, Sophie,” Sylvain said, placing the box on the floor and taking her hands in his. “I won’t hide behind them; won’t hide from you. It’s been hell without you and I was too stubborn to acknowledge how I felt. I was afraid to lose you. Afraid that what had happened to Marianne would happen to you. And I couldn’t lose you. I needed to keep you safe even if it meant pushing you away.”
“That’s kind of screwy,” Sophie interrupted him. “How can you not want to lose me by pushing me away, because then you’d lose me anyway.”
“Did you just throw guy logic at me?” Sylvain grinned.
Sophie laughed in response. “I guess I did.”
Sylvain chuckled, “The tables have turned.”
Sophie smiled, and then prompted, “You said that you loved me?”
“I do,” he confirmed, “I love you with all my being, with and without the masks I wear as duty and as protection. I love you with an intensity that leaves me incapable of not having you with me as my partner, my confidant, and one of the two women that can give me the kick up my ass that I sometimes, grudgingly need.”
“One of two women,” Sophie’s eyebrows shot up.
> “My sister,” he quickly informed.
“Of course,” Sophie flushed. “Within seconds I’ve gone from accepting a life without you to having you proclaim your love to me. I understand what you’ve been going through and can accept that it kept you busy, but you must see my point of view. I have not heard from you or seen you in a month. No phone calls, no texts, no dropping by. Nothing. It is a bit much to ask me to show up now, proclaim you love and expect me to fall into whatever plans you have. By the way, what are your plans?”
Sylvain sat back. Two things hit him at once - pride for the way that she stood up for herself and insecurity. He knew nothing he said would be able to adequately convince her of his sincerity. Using magick, he sliced at his forearm. “Drink,” he commanded. Then softening his tone, he said, “I’m proving my love to you. Please drink Sophie.”
Supernatural Seduction (Book 2 of the Coffin Girls Series) Page 22