by L. C. Son
“Would you like to try it on?” He asks as he turns a large floor mirror toward me, giving me an opportunity to see myself next to the gown. “It is no trouble at all. My wife is in the back and can set your pins and hem line. How soon do you need it?”
Sheepishly, I look back at him and with my new view of the world I can’t believe how only weeks ago I wanted to exact vengeance on him. Now I feel nothing but shame for my thoughts alone.
“Well—I—um—would actually need it by tomorrow morning. I’m sorry, I know it’s rather last minute,” I answer.
“Ophelia,” Elias shouts over his shoulder, never losing his warm smile.
“Yes dear,” I hear her voice call from the back room.
“That lady who stiffed us on the check for the emerald gown—don’t you think her measurements are about equal. Peek your head out for a minute!”
Gently turning me at my wrists, Elias points to a back room where a small round woman with thick curly hair pulled into a bun takes a look at me with two needles hanging at the corner of her mouth. She nods in agreement before gesturing for someone on seamstress block to turn so she can finish their hem.
“Good then, I don’t think it would be a problem, miss. And since the gown seems to be meant for you, I won’t even charge extra for the rush,” he laughs.
“Oh, please do!” I exclaim, pushing a wad of money into his hands. “I am more than thankful, sir. Honestly, I didn’t expect to find anything so soon. I deeply appreciate this.”
Elias smiles back at me after shaking his head in disbelief several times. Pulling the gown from the casing, he looks up at me and smiles once more. “You know, there’s something really familiar about you. I feel like I’ve seen you before,” he says with a questioning glare.
I’d hoped he didn’t recognize me, but a part of me feels thankful he does. It is nice to be seen, as Sebastian always says. “Yes, we met briefly at the bakery a few weeks back,” I answer.
“That’s it!” He exclaims with a wide smile. “I knew I’d seen you somewhere before. Well, at any rate, I’m glad you came here today.”
“So am I,” I add as he extends his hand.
“The name is Elias Peyroux,” he says with a hearty handshake.
“Yes, I know you are of great reputation Mr. Peyroux,” I reply. Tilting his head, he regards me curiously as he gently pulls his hand away. Pointing at the embroidered sign behind him, I smile and continue, “I figured since your name is on the sign, I should at least get it right. Not to mention being informed by the bakery attendant of your expert skill in gowns and fabrics.” Although it’s not a complete lie, I am hopeful my reply will suffice.
“Ah yes!” he answers merrily. “Well, we’ve got a lot to do to get this gown to you by the morning so let’s get you to the back and measured.”
Elias leads me to the back sitting room where I wait for Ophelia to wrap up with her client. As I do, I read the news of an outdated post sitting on the coffee table, humming as I thumb through the pages. My heart warms within me and I smile.
Never have I been so happy. Not only am I thankful no malice stirs my heart as I sit in the shop of Elias Peyroux, but even more, I feel something else stir inside me I’d never thought I’d know.
Peace.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
My merry melody continues in my carriage ride back to the mansion.
Both the peace and joy residing in my heart overwhelm me with a state of security I’ve never known before now. Although it still pains me to know Elias had a small role to play in my sister’s demise, a part of me empathizes with his predicament.
I may have never been a slave or kept in subjugation because of the color of my skin, but I too understand what it means to go to whatever end for the sake of family. For it was the thought of protecting Chalmette, myself, and even my wretched sister Victoria, that I forged such a dark alliance with both Dalcour and the Changelings. Just as Elias traded the whereabouts of my sister and Decaux for his family’s freedom, will I also trade my soul just to protect those I love most.
And while I assumed the power of the Changelings would haunt me forever and will me to despicable deeds, I am yet fortunate to be in control of my own lot. For that, I am indeed thankful.
Arriving at the mansion, I notice the estate is darker than usual, save a few flickering flames evident in the window. As Austin helps me out of the carriage, my curiosity grows with each step we take toward the porch.
Before I have an opportunity to place a foot on the stairs, Greta immediately opens the door. She wears a dutiful, yet reserved smile as she nods at me as I enter while she quickly exits the mansion just as I make my way inside.
Strange.
Looking around, I see a few candles lighting the halls, but the mansion is eerily dark. Not only is Greta’s departure sudden, but looking down the hall I notice the kitchen is also dark. While I wonder whether Sebastian has made plans for dinner, I am still surprised Greta left without apprising me of any details.
I hear the wheels of the carriage from outside, and I peer out the window and see Greta in the carriage as Austin rides her off. Smiling, I wonder if the two had a romantic evening planned. As my curiosity grows, I can only imagine what plans Sebastian must have in store for us to require everyone to vacate the mansion.
My heart quickens at the thought and my cheeks flush with red as I take off my wrap and lay it on the foyer stool. Shooting my eyes upstairs, imaginings of Sebastian preparing a bath for us as he did just the other night raid my mind.
“Sebastian,” I call, leaning on the bannister as an ache of desire shoots straight to my preciousness.
“So it is true,” I hear a lush deep voice call to me from the dark corner of the dining room.
The pounding of my heart drops to the pit of my gut when I turn around only to find Dalcour standing just beyond the slither of light creeping beneath the crack at the base of the door.
“My lord!” I gasp, surprised to see him.
Dalcour doesn’t answer as I rush to make my way to him. Instead of his normal caring eyes and broad smile, his mouth is tight in a thin line and his crimson eyes narrowed as he watches each step I take.
“My lord?” I question, hoping to yield a response. With every move I make toward him, he steps back and away from me. While I’m certain he’s in no rush to fuse with the lingering rays of light, something tells me it’s not the light he recoils. “Lord Titan said you weren’t due until tomorrow. He told me you’d be back in time for the ball. I’m glad you made it back early. I have so much to share with you!” I exclaim, optimistic my lighter mood will rub off on him.
It does not.
“So his is the first name you utter when you come into my house?” Dalcour bites back as though we were in the middle of an argument. “Answer me!” he demands, forcing his face through the sliver of light, allowing a thin layer of smoke to burn along his cheek as his eyes blare bright like a flame of fire.
“My lord?” I step back, frightened as I watch his fangs protrude and his skin glistens to a thick red sheen.
“Chartreuse!” He shouts back. “Have I not given you everything? Rescued you from your sordid state, aid you in helping your sister, given you free reign in my home, all while offering you a better, more powerful life—and this is how you repay me!”
“What, my lord did I do wrong? Please I meant no offense!” I plea, lifting my hands to cover my face, certain he’ll take a hard blow to my cheek.
“What is this? Do you not know me? Did I not profess you as my family? And now you think I’ll strike you? You truly insult me! Put your hands down, Chartreuse,” he commands, and I quickly do so. Slowly, his fangs retract and the red sheen along his skin fades to his normal chestnut hue.
Tears stream down my face and I look up at him through my wet lashes, trembling for fear. “Please if you would but explain what I did to make you so cross with me, I promise I will lament of any trespass, my lord.
”
“Very well then,” he answers in a gentler tone as he pushes a wooden stool across the floor and gestures for me to sit. “Tell me about your relationship with Sebastian St. John.”
Recalling how Titan told me Dalcour wouldn’t be happy to learn of my dealings with Sebastian, I take a deep breath and think carefully about my next words.
“Please, Chartreuse just tell me the truth,” Dalcour adds with a lilt of exasperation as he pulls off his long black trench coat and brim and lay them over the bannister. Sighing heavy, he sits down on the fourth step, allowing his long legs room to plant his feet comfortably on the floor.
As my mind sorts through the last two weeks I’ve spent with Sebastian, I conclude all I can do is share the truth with him, confident he will be just as happy for me as I am.
But he is not.
Once I bring Dalcour up to date on the would-be fairytale of the story of Sebastian and me, I see nothing but contempt and irritation growing in his otherwise hauntingly entreating glare.
“But why him?” Dalcour’s dark tone falls flat as he throws his head between his hands. “Surely, there were dozens—no hundreds of suitors you could have chosen—anyone but him!” He yelps, rising from the steps.
“Well—I—I—guess it’s because I—love—”
“Don’t you dare say it, Chartreuse! For mercy, Chartreuse, I promise if you say it, I’ll kill him myself!”
It may not be the way I wanted to confess my love for Sebastian St. John, but in this moment, I know without a doubt, I love him. Jumping up from the stool, I use the remaining force within me and am square before Dalcour faster than I thought myself capable.
“You will not lay a hand on him!” I growl my words, tossing any remnant of trepidation aside. Staring into his fire-wrought glare, everything in me knows I should be afraid. I know with one stroke of his hand, Dalcour Marchand could end my very life.
But I don’t care.
I’d gladly give my life for Sebastian St. John.
He is my life.
So this is what love feels like?
“Will I not?” Dalcour growls back, leaning into me.
“Then you’ll have to kill me too.” Although quietly spoken, I mean every word.
Stepping back, both horror and intrigue fills Dalcour’s face. “So this is what it has come to? You’d rather die than know the truth.”
“What truth?” I question, reining in my fury with concern.
“The truth that no matter how you feel for Sebastian St. John, he is to marry another. Tomorrow.”
Grief, panic, and doubt swell within the core of me and it is as if all the oxygen in my lungs is sucked out. Ambling back against the wall, I buckle at my knees as the weight of Dalcour’s words fill me with a brokenness I’d never known until now.
Refusing to let this new feeling overtake me, I leer up toward Dalcour as I sense his hand nearing my shoulder in consolation. “You lie!” I snap. Dalcour pulls away and the drift of concern that once etched his brow is now replaced with irritation.
“You think I’d lie to you, Chartreuse?” He softly asks, stunned. Almost vulnerable.
My heart tells me he is yet sincere, but I refuse to let this go. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” I flatly reply. Looking at me as though I’d punched him in the gut, he leans back, throwing his hands to his sides and circles around the wooden stool. “You didn’t tell me the truth about Elias Peyroux. You didn’t tell me you wanted to pair me with your brother, nor did you tell me you could read my mind or compel me.”
Whatever remained of Dalcour’s vulnerability toward me is stripped away with my last words. Once more his eyes glow bright red and a fiery sheen covers his face. “Then I shall tell you nothing but the truth now. Yes, I compelled you not to harm Elias because you bare no right of vengeance against him or his kin. And while I had every intention of informing you of both Altrinion compulsion and telepathy, I planned to do so on my terms, not yours! Lastly, beyond my initial inclinations of pairing you with Decaux I had left such thoughts behind me when I sired you that night—just as I promised. But for the first time, I will go against my own will and break that promise. Yes, Chartreuse I wanted you to find love. Be happy. Enjoy your life. I had even hoped that perhaps there was some remnant of affection between you and Sincade DeLuca as I wished to also welcome him to my family. Now all my plans of such a family are but an ill-fitted design! But if you want to challenge me, I shall show you what happens to those who dare do so and I promise it will not be to your liking!”
“Dalcour—I—I—” I stutter as the fury of his words are unleashed upon me and I watch with fear as the beast within him comes to surface.
“I’ll hear nothing further from you, Chartreuse!” He shouts back. “Guardians!” He calls down the hallway.
“Please, my lord! I am sorry! I didn’t mean to—I—I am just learning of this! I knew nothing of Sebastian being engaged or any of the sort. I promise!”
Dalcour’s face softens as I make my plea and I see in his eyes this is not what he wanted for either of us. Parting his lips to speak, two men I’ve never seen before and the man and woman I once saw in the taming wells appear in the hall. The four of them look at Dalcour briefly and begin making their way toward me.
“Dalcour, please!” I cry, backing into a corner, hopeful I can prevent them from taking me to whatever punishment awaits me.
“Wait!” Dalcour says, lifting his hand and making his way in between the huddle now surrounding me.
“I didn’t know,” I plea once more, my voice hardly above a whisper as I look up at Dalcour through tear-wrought eyes.
“I know,” Dalcour replies, almost regretful.
“Then why loose your venom on me, my lord?”
“Because seeing you now I know it doesn’t matter the circumstance, you’ll fight to the bitter end to be with St. John, beyond anything I could possibly explain.”
“If you still see anything familial left in me, I beg that you try to help me understand! In the weeks I’ve spent with Sebastian he’s never once mentioned a fiancé or lady in his life of any kind. Now you tell me he is to wed tomorrow. And I haven’t seen him at all today. Perhaps if I could but talk to him—”
“Absolutely not!” Dalcour protests. The tremor of his voice shakes through the estate and even the Guardians tremble at his sides. Walking away from the huddle, Dalcour tosses his arms up and folds his hands behind his head and sighs as he paces back and forth. “Chartreuse, I know you did nothing to intentionally cause harm, but you must understand this is the way things must be.”
“But why, my lord? And who is this woman? And why tomorrow?” I shout back, hopeful, he’ll shed some light to this insanity.
Leaning beside a large iron sconce, Dalcour takes a deep breath and his more monstrous appearance fades again and his eyes fall as he regards me once more with care.
“Kellan St. John was my dear friend and ally. I was on my way toward other business when I learned of his death. Years ago, Kellan named me executor to his estate. At his will reading, an arrangement was made for Sebastian to marry. Unfortunately, Sebastian did not attend the will reading last week as Oliver stated he was busy with other matters.” Looking under his eyes at me, he sighs hard once more and pushes himself away from the wall. “Now it all makes sense,” he mutters under his breath.
Making my way through the crowd circling me toward Dalcour, relief hits me as I realize Sebastian did not deceive me. “He didn’t know!” I exclaim, breathless.
“It matters not, Chartreuse! It is what he now understands that matters.”
“What he understands?”
“Yes, dear one. No matter how he may have felt about you, the young St. John knows propriety above all things. He is the son of an only son and it is his duty to propagate his bloodline—with an Altrinion. And I regret to say, that is not you.”
Once more, grief strikes a hard blow to my heart at Dalcour’s words,
pushing me back into my corner.
“I am sorry, Chartreuse. Truly I am. This is not what I wanted for you. But as you can see Sebastian has a duty to his bloodline. If he wants to claim not only his inheritance but maintain his place among the Order of Altrinion he must not forsake his obligation.”
“But what about us?” I mumble, clasping my hands together at my waist. Thick droplets form at the corners of my eyes and I cringe knowing the one thing I feared has truly come upon me.
“The two of you can never be,” Dalcour answers, with a twinge of remorse. Staring at him I see tears well behind his crimson eyes as he watches my own fall past my cheeks.
Turning his back, he snaps his fingers and two of the Guardians lift me up by my arms as the other two grab me at my legs, propping me on their shoulders.
“Dalcour!” I scream as they carry me down the hall. “Please, no!”
“You’ve given me no other choice, Chartreuse,” he counters, as I peer over one of the Guardians' shoulders to see Dalcour’s crestfallen face from behind. “Tomorrow both you and Sebastian will enter two quite different lives. You will be in transition as a newly sired vampire, hand chosen to walk at Decaux’s side. You are my only hope in reining in his insidious rule. And though I thought to relent of making you such a pair, it must be done. Meanwhile, Sebastian St. John will enter into marriage with Jerrica Jeffers. She will give him at least one Altrinion pure-blood child. But you, my dear, will never see him again!”
“My lord! No!” I cry, squirming, hopeful to break free of the Guardian’s tight hold.
“Where to?” One of the leading Guardians asks.
“To the taming wells, Cedric. I’m turning her. Tonight.”
Chapter Thirty
Still squirming and screaming, Dalcour’s Guardians cart me through the Civility Center on their shoulders. Their hold on me is steady despite my kicking and turning, making me almost tire of my efforts. But I refuse to go down without a fight.