by L. C. Son
With every touch of his things, outbursts of cries and curses erupt from me like a tidal wave. Thoughts of his demise sicken me and haunt me all at once.
But as much as I want to wallow in my own agony, I cannot. Not yet.
Although I may not yet know how to best the Changelings or alter their control over me, I need my sire to see me. The real me. Not the saddened soul he saved at the saloon, nor the tamed vampire vixen he’d hope to give as a prize to his wicked brother, but the real me.
The woman whose very song struck a chord in her own downfall. I want him to look me in the eyes, knowing I am not a woman he can control or master. Even if seeing him should mean my own doom, I’ll not give him the satisfaction of the hunt and chase. I’m walking straight into the lion’s den with neither care nor fear.
I laugh as I slip on the dress fashioned by Elias Peyroux. The irony of it all isn’t lost on me, but I press on nonetheless. Since Sebastian ruined my gown I have nothing else to wear and everything Dalcour gave me is at his mansion and that is the last place I need to go.
Instead of pulling my hair into a bun, I leave it free to hang at my shoulders. I’m no longer interested in donning prim attire to cater to men’s ideals of docile dames.
Looking into the floor-length mirror near the front door, I smile at the hauntingly beautiful woman staring back at me.
“I know you can hear me,” I whisper to the mirror. “I may not know how I’ll do it, but some day I will make you pay for what you did.” Keeping my eyes locked to the mirror, I stand in wait, hopeful the Changelings will reveal themselves but they do not.
Lifting my eyes to the transom along the front door, I wait patiently as I see the sun slowly fade from my view. Not only has twenty-four hours passed since my making, but I’ve made my first kill. Awaiting sunset shall be my new daily recourse.
Opening the doors of the cottage, I tip my foot outside the door, thankful there is no sting or burn to force me back in the house. Good.
Using night as my cover, I make my way to the museum in a matter of minutes. I take note my speed seems faster than I recall from earlier. Interesting.
Looking around I am somewhat surprised to see so many gathered for the occasion. I knew both Dalcour and Sebastian insisted this would be a grand event, I think even they underestimated it.
Walking through the large herds of humans, Altrinions, wolves and vampires, I can distinctly make out the differences in variety. From the flaming embers of fire flashing beneath eyes of Altrinions, to the golden sun-spun glimmer of wolfen eyes, I am well aware of the company to whom I now keep.
Even humans smell different. Like dinner.
Their blood calls to me more than even Altrinions, whereas wolves smell almost repugnant. Not so much that I wouldn’t take a bite, but I’d certainly think twice.
Dazzling glances are shared between me and other supernaturals as I near the entrance of the museum. Most smile in admiration while others stare on curiously.
My steps are long and sure as I make my way through the museum doors and I almost gasp at how splendid everything looks. Iridescent golden lights and scented candles flicker throughout the grand foyer, creating a shimmering sheen along the marble floors.
The sweet smell of lotus, lavender and gardenia flowers fill the hall with an aromatic scent that is both comforting and inviting. Attendants stroll through offering human guests petit fours, baklava, and fruit while supernatural guests mingle with humans discussing the art arrayed throughout the hall.
But it’s when I see the baskets of wine and cheese being handed out to the guests along the long corridor that leads to the Great Room, that tight knots form in the pit of my gut and throat.
These are the baskets Sebastian and I prepared. This is something we were supposed to do together!
Sucking in the thick air in my throat, I blink my eyes hard, hopeful I’ll force aside any tears seeking their release. I’ll not allow it. I’ll never let them see me cry. Not now. Not ever.
Continuing my stroll down the corridor, I spy some of the people I met, like Lucinda and Thaddeus. Their eyes follow my movements as I make my way down the aisle. Lowering my eyes to catch their gaze, my fangs drop just enough for me to reveal my new form and both Thaddeus and Lucinda stand frozen, shocked by my new form. Quickly, I retract my fangs, careful not make myself too conspicuous in front of the humans.
Looking to the end of the corridor I see Dalcour donned in a sharp tux. His broad smile stretches from ear to ear as he greets guests as each of them hover about to make their way to him. Even if I didn’t know better, there is no doubt this is Dalcour Marchand’s show.
He remains centerstage as he exchanges pleasantries with his guests but his eyes flit across the room as though he were looking for someone. A man I’ve never seen with Dalcour before comes to his side and whispers in his ear and points to the far side of the stage. My eyes follow his and I see a woman wearing a contemporary white dress standing in the corner.
She is beautiful.
Her youthful face is impeccably polished and painted and her raven black hair cascades to the middle of her back as one thick braid coils along the side as the rest of her hair hangs free. Holding a single white rose, a bright smile beams across her face as she looks out with Dalcour to the swarming guests, waving at each as though she were royalty.
Then it hits me.
This is Sebastian’s fiancé.
Crap! No wonder he intended to leave me. Look at her! She is breathtakingly stunning! Watching the elegance of her manner and the grace of her steps, it’s evident she is a woman of society. Unlike me.
More knots form in my throat as I gaze at her. It doesn’t take a genius to see how taking this woman as a wife would be an improvement compared to a doomed life with a creature such as me. Although I know Sebastian initially abhorred the thought of such pomp and prim manner, even he knew the two of us were not cut from the same cloth.
Before I have a chance to continue comparing myself to Sebastian’s fiancé, strong arms snatch me away. I don’t have time to parry or fight, but I do catch a glimpse of Dalcour’s eyes as I am pulled away. I cannot tell whether he saw me or not when my assailant tosses me into a corner. Sliding across the floor, I bump my head into a marble wall.
“I thought you’d be smart enough not to show your face here! Not after the stunt you pulled!” I hear Titan’s voice bark as he comes from behind the shadows along the corridor’s edge. “Really Chartreuse! You are truly a piece of work,” he barks, lifting me from the ground and holding me by my throat. “I don’t know what you did to get yourself out, but I’ll find out!” He snarls as his eyes flicker with his normal red crimson glow.
Pushing myself against the wall, I kick him off me and quickly scale the wall, jumping down to the other side.
“You may be fast, Chartreuse, but you’re not fast enough.”
“I hope you don’t think you’re taking me back to the wells!” I protest, parrying his movements as he circles me.
“If I want to take you back there—I can and I will.”
“Oh but, my lord have you not taken enough from me already?” I tease, swaying my hips and fluttering my eyes while I bite the nail on my forefinger.
“What?” He asks, curiosity filling between the hardlines of his brow. His eyes scan the entirety of me, lingering once more at my cleavage as he licks his lips. Even though I know he doesn’t recall what happened, there’s no doubt he’d like it to happen again. And again.
“What is she doing here?” Dalcour roars, startling both Titan and me. I hunch, backing up against the wall and look to Titan, wondering how he will reply. “Somebody answer me!” He demands.
“You told me not to let her out until she met the conditions of her trials.”
“It’s been just twenty-four hours, Lord Titan! You honestly want me to believe—”
“Well, I’m standing here am I not, my lord,” I interject, quickly coming to Titan�
�s side. “And well, there are humans crawling all over and I’ve not spilled a drop of blood. If that isn’t meeting the conditions, my lord, I don’t know what is.”
Dalcour frowns as he searches my face, trading hard stares back and forth with Titan.
Grunting, Dalcour closes the gap between us and a loud rumble roars from his chest. “Then perhaps the two of you can explain why you both—”
“Lord Marchand!” A high pitched, feminine voice calls to Dalcour from a far corner. “No one can find him anywhere! The guests are getting antsy. If we don’t wed soon—”
“Please, Jerrica don’t worry your beautiful little head about anything. Besides, Sebastian understands how important tonight is. There’s no way he’ll miss it.” Dalcour’s manner and tone is gentle as he speaks to her. Cupping her hand in his, he places his free hand to her shoulder in solace. She reaches across her chest to take his hand in hers and her cheeks soften, comforted by Dalcour’s hand.
While watching Dalcour dote on Jerrica is nauseating, it’s how she’s eating it all up that makes me want to claw that plastered smile from her perfect face.
“I know you’re right, Lord Marchand! Talking with Sebastian last night I know he understands how important today is. Besides, it’s a smart match if I don’t say so myself,” Jerrica adds, lifting her chin in assurance.
Her words infuriate me, and I take a step forward, but Titan steps in front of me and gives me a look of warning. Dalcour watches us from his periphery, yet keeps his attention fixed on Jerrica. But by the way his jaws clench, I know our actions frustrate him.
“Oh my,” Jerrica begins, peering at me from beneath Dalcour’s firm hold. “Where are my manners?” She exclaims as she saunters gracefully toward me. “You must be Lord Marchand’s ward. Charlotte, right?”
“Chartreuse,” I grit between my teeth as Titan holds me tight at my forearm. “Chartreuse Grenoble,” I breathe out, forcing a faux smile.
“I am so sorry, love,” she adds with a bright smile and her American-worn British accent ringing through. “I am horrid with names. Well thank you so much for coming tonight. I didn’t think I’d meet you until after Sebastian and I returned from our honeymoon in Paris. He said it is his favorite city, so we both thought it would be a great spot. Now if only he would arrive and we could get started with the evening,” she says, looking up and down the hall.
A sinister smile wanders on my face and for the first time since Sebastian’s death, I find pleasure knowing her honeymoon shall never come.
“My lord,” the same man I saw with Dalcour on the stage earlier pushes his way through us in the corridor.
“Yes, Lux, what is it?” Dalcour angrily barks back.
“It’s Master St. John, my lord. No one can find him. We’ve sent the Guard to his home and there was no trace of him nor his attendant Oliver,” Lux replies, flashing his golden eyes briefly as he looks around the group.
At his words, Jerrica bursts into tears and Dalcour instinctively wraps his arms around her. “He stood me up! Me! How could he?” she cries. “I mean I knew it was stupid getting my hopes up after our fathers arranged our union, but I would’ve thought after all these years Sebastian would’ve come around to the idea. Instead he’d rather run off than be with me!”
The sight of her tears brings me both joy and pain. Knowing I am the cause of Sebastian’s absence crushes me from the inside but knowing this perfect woman before me is equally crushed gives me a hint of solace.
Jerrica remains in Dalcour’s hold as she buries her head in his embrace, sobbing into his arms. While he does his best to comfort her, Dalcour keeps a menacing glare at both me and Titan.
“Lux, please take Lady Jerrica to one of my parlor rooms upstairs,” Dalcour begins as he hands Jerrica to Lux. Wrapping his arm around her, Lux leads Jerrica from our sight and Dalcour turns quickly on his heel to face us.
“What did you do Chartreuse?” He shouts with a wickedly demanding gaze.
“Me?” I mock him, with my hands on my chest and batting my eyes. “Whatever do you mean, my lord?” I softly ask with a sly smile.
“Chartreuse, don’t!” Titan warns, gritting his words out between his teeth. Dalcour’s eyes flash to Titan as he comes closer, and his skin reddens while his sharp fangs hang between his mouth.
“What do you know of it? Titan speak!” Dalcour commands. Titan’s posture stiffens at Dalcour’s rebuking tone, but his shoulders remain square and his gaze narrows in defiance.
“I know nothing!” Titan growls back. I am slightly impressed he doesn’t back down. The man obviously has a steel spine.
Dalcour doesn’t buy Titan’s words, but he shoots his glance back to me and before I can blink, his hand is at my throat. “But you do! Tell me Chartreuse or I’ll end you in this instant!”
Squirming beneath his heavy hand, hissing, and snarling sounds erupt from me and Dalcour returns the gesture. Shouting my name again, his grip tightens, and I retract my fangs to reply. “Doesn’t seem too fatherly of you, my lord,” I sneer. It takes everything in me not to give in and falter. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction of being weak before him. His eyes slightly fall at my words and his hold lessens.
“Nor does it seem the way one would handle a gift meant for me.” A lush voice calls from the shadows.
“Decaux?” Dalcour questions with surprise as he drops me to the cold floor.
Chapter Thirty- Five
“Is this how you treat my gifts, brother?” Decaux says with a wicked grin as he leans against the wall.
“What are you doing here, Decaux?” Dalcour snaps.
Decaux shoots a glance down at me and Titan walks in front of me, blocking Decaux’s cagey stare.
“Well, I’m here to collect this lovely little morsel,” Decaux answers as he walks past Dalcour and around Titan. Extending his hand to help me up, Decaux smiles and winks his eye with a quick nod as though we had an understanding.
Almost reluctantly, I put my hand in his as he lifts me from the ground.
“I mean truly brother; this is certainly no way to treat a lady. Surely our mother taught you better,” Decaux continues as he wipes the floor dust from the sides of my gown. “I thought you had better manners.”
“What are you doing here?” Titan says, pushing his way in between me and Decaux, keeping me protectively at his back.
“This doesn’t concern you, Lord Titan,” Decaux sharply replies as he looks over his shoulder at Titan. “Now, I have no grievance with you, but should you continue to place yourself between me and what is rightfully mine, then we shall be at an impasse.”
“We’ll be at more than an impasse if you think—”
“Titan!” Dalcour growls as he makes his way to our side. Once more, Dalcour’s eyes shift back and forth between Titan and me, but he forces his wandering thoughts aside and returns his attention back to his brother.
“Whatever!” Titan huffs, backing away. His eyes lock with mine briefly and I recall his earlier plea for me to remain with him. Knowing what I do now, perhaps I should have stayed with Titan. Although it’s clear Titan doesn’t remember what happened between us, one thing is sure—there is still something between us.
But I don’t have the heart or emotional fortitude to understand what that something is.
In a flash, Titan exits, leaving me alone with the Marchand brothers.
“As I was saying,” Decaux begins with a tone more light than the scowl on Dalcour’s face deems appropriate. “I am here to acquire the lady Chartreuse.”
“I thought you said you weren’t interested in me?” I shoot back, remembering his earlier disregard.
Circling both Dalcour and me, Decaux paces about with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His eyes scan the length of me and a cunning grin forms in the corner of his mouth. “Well, well, Little Calida, If memory serves me correct, I said I was waiting for a spark of fire. And unless I am presently misguided, it appears there is still ye
t a spark—or at least some semblance of it.”
A brief smile frames Dalcour’s face but it is too short lived. “Why now brother?”
“Firstly, you always make good on your promises. You promised me this maiden, as you did a world of civility. As it appears you’re doing well to build that world. Seeing as though you’ll likely have your hands full with that tearful one who just ran, sobbing past me into the parlor suite, it’s probably for the best that I take this one off your hands.”
“But you said—” Dalcour interjects, his face filled with doubt.
“And you said, you’d promise this Calida-reincarnate to me. Unlike her sister, the Lady Chartreuse is now built for this world. With her at my side, I have no doubt we’ll take this world by storm. That is, at least, until you meet the terms of our barter.” Clasping his hands together, Decaux’s cagey grin grows from ear to ear.
Dalcour’s eyes wander back and forth between me and Decaux, uncertainty filling his face. “Brother, I don’t know—"
Although he’s uncertain, I am not.
I must control my own fate.
“I will go with him,” I force my words out, cutting through whatever sentiment lingered at Dalcour’s lips.
Dalcour steps back in surprise with his eyes wide while Decaux’s eyes narrow and his wicked smile shifts to the other side of his face.
As strange as it may seem, intuition tells me I’ll be better at Decaux’s side than at Dalcour’s whim.
“But Chartreuse,” Dalcour begins, his countenance fallen. “Why?” he asks.
“It is why you brought me here, is it not?” I quickly reply. “But it is clear we now want different things.”
Dalcour’s lips part to reply, but he closes them, swallowing his own words whole.
“Even more,” I begin, taking small steps toward him. “You said you wanted me to enjoy myself. You promised that no matter what differences stand before us, you would always stand with me.”
“You read my letter?” he whispers back, surprised.
“Yes, father,” I quietly reply.
The frown lines in his brow recede but he continues searching my face. I am not sure what he’s looking for or if he’s trying to read me, but his expression tells me he does not see what he hopes to find in my eyes.