Redemption (12 page)

The dream. It had been clearer than it ever had been. I could almost feel the rain still on my skin. I cringed, looking down at my bed to be sure my phone was still under my pillow. I hadn’t found the strength to reply back to Monroe.

"
He said her aura was black,"
Monroe had texted.

 
I closed my eyes briefly, thoughts of Aunt Kyra and the dream clinging to my conscious. Waves of anxiety flowed over me. Sweat made my top cling to my back, and I shivered from the chill. Nausea built and then subsided. Bile rose and I swallowed hard. The dream had never affected me this physically before. I didn't understand it. Was it because of Monroe's revelation about Lady Ky? I bent over a second, letting my head hang low until the faintness passed. It took me a moment to reassure myself, not only that the dream was just that—a dream, but to remind myself that nothing had changed. I was still breathing, I wasn’t falling, and both my parents were still deceased. My body shook as I looked it over, letting my mind slowly let go of the last cobwebs, the tiny fragments of the dream still hovering.

“
Look for the light
,” his voice whispered again.

I fought not to cry. I missed my parents. Running my hand over my face, I looked again at Grumpy.

“Survived another one, oh Dour One,” I said wearily as I tried to settle back against my pillows.

The moment I reclined, I sat back up again. It was no use. There was no point. My heart was still a jackhammer in my chest and my head pounded relentlessly against my temples. Every muscle jumped restlessly as I swung my pajama clad legs over the side of the bed. Big red hearts surrounded by the small scripted word
Juicy
swam in front of my eyes. I scowled. It was times like this that I missed Amber coming into my room. My breathing faltered, and I reminded myself to take it slow.

The dream was a double-edged sword, a mix of joy and nightmare. It was agony. But last night it had also been different—more real, more deadly in its clarity. I fisted my hands into the blankets around me. My nails dug into the mattress. Cramps invaded my calf muscles as the anxiety worked its way downward, and I stood up slowly, gasping as the shock of the cold floor against my bare feet brought me out of my reverie. The walls seemed to close in on me, and I cursed under my breath as I stepped on whatever items were playing "trash of the week" on my bedroom floor in my attempt to flee. The Sisters would fret if they saw it.

“Cleanliness is next to Godliness,” I mumbled as I stumbled to the door and threw it open.

The hallway was already lit, and probably had been since right before dawn. The Abbey really did come alive at ungodly hours. 

Something brushed against my leg, and I jumped, my back going up against the stone wall hard before I realized it was the mouser cat my aunt thought would help with the Abbey’s rodents. Exterminators could only do so much in a building as old and as large as the Abbey.

“Want to give me some kind of warning next time, Raven,” I growled at the cat as I shimmied past her to the bathroom.

My heart rate was still up but slowing. I didn’t bother looking up into the mirror. I didn’t want to see the sweat on my face and the dark circles under my eyes.

“Look for the light
,” his voice whispered around me, and I stiffened.

The voice sounded
so
real. The nausea came back. I swallowed convulsively. What the hell!?

“I don’t see it,” I gritted out as I gripped the sink so hard I was shocked the porcelain didn’t crack.

“Don’t see what, sweetie?” Diane asked from behind me, and I jumped again. My nerves were downright raw. Diane moved to my side and glanced at me worriedly.

“You okay, Dayton?” she asked. I straightened up. Where had she come from?

“Yes’m,” I mumbled.

Looking behind me, I realized I had neglected to shut the door. Wonderful. Diane narrowed her eyes but didn’t question me further. She knew from experience I wasn’t the forthcoming type. Diane had lost some weight over the years, but she still looked and dressed the same way she had the day she led Amber and I into the Abbey for the first time.

“Okay, sweetie. Your sister is already down in the kitchens, and there’s breakfast in the refectory,” Diane said as she laid some clean towels down in front of me and turned to leave.

I wished I could tell her to stay, but the dream wasn’t a new one and seemed too personal to share somehow. I bit my lip to keep from talking. It wasn’t even about sharing it. I just didn’t want to be alone. The whole week had felt strange. I closed my eyes briefly.
"He said her aura was black."
Today felt scary. 

“I’ll warn you though. Your aunt is in the refectory and she’s in a temper,” Diane called into the bathroom.

I sighed and leaned over to turn on the sink, splashing ice cold water into my face. The kitchens it was then. I had chores to do anyway. I couldn’t face Aunt Kyra.

 The car ride yesterday still made me angry. I didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand why she refused to talk to me. She was like a black hole. She sucked me dry. She may be the Abbess of Blackstone Abbey, my mother’s sister, and my guardian but she was also one cold sanctimonious bitch. She wasn’t the maternal type and, even after seven years, still seemed to be adjusting to us. And her aura . . . I shook my head hard.
No!
I couldn't go there! I bit the inside of my mouth, letting the slight pain it caused redirect my thoughts as I dove for the shower then rushed to finish before the hot water disappeared.

One swift shower down and a wardrobe change later, and I was running down the stairs. I was determined to turn my morning around. I
needed
to turn it around. Hell, I
needed
my week back. I couldn’t ignore everything that had already happened: the visions, my aunt, Amber, the dream, and the whole revelation about Conor, but I could put a fresh coat of paint on the whole situation. This was
my
life,
my
choices.

“Don’t run!” a Sister called out to me, and I managed to refrain from being derogatory. Just barely.

Shoving into the kitchens, I slid to a halt just long enough to grab a broom and cross my eyes at my sister standing at the stove. She ignored me. No surprise. If the rift had been wide before, our conversation yesterday had made it wider. I turned my back on her and began to move around the room. I was feeling better, my body relaxing into my chore when an indistinguishable voice infiltrated a daydream I’d been having. I paused.

“What?” I asked Amber as I turned toward her; sure she’d been trying to get my attention from the stove.

She glanced up briefly, her look confused. A cold feeling climbed up my spine. I shook my head. As edgy as I was, I was sure I was just imagining things. Whatever. I watched my sister a moment.

“You might want to try a little spice in the dish this time,” I suggested helpfully as I moved to sweep the last of the morning dirt out the back door. Kitchen duty was such a pain in the ass. Amber raised a brow but continued stirring.

“The more natural the dish, the more cleansing it is to the soul,” Amber quoted solemnly.

I leaned over the broom and pretended to wretch.

“Is your head always stuck up someone else’s ass?” I asked before dropping the broom and hefting myself up on the counter.

The way she quoted the Sisters seriously grated on my nerves. The broom bounced loudly against the floor and landed on Amber’s foot. She huffed indignantly but refrained from swearing. I just smiled and balanced carefully before reaching up to grasp my prize.

My sister watched me warily but didn’t say a word as I unwrapped the lollipop I had hidden among the kitchen’s plants. It wasn’t my most creative hiding spot but it’d do for now.

“You know that stuff is nothing but solidified poison,” Amber murmured, kicking the broom aside as I hopped back down onto the brick floor.

An image of Conor warning me about sugar and sin made me bite back a laugh. I looked over at her and grinned. Amber was too serious. Mom used to say she was intense and contemplative. My translation for that:
Dull!
I danced over to Amber and held the pink dumdum up lovingly.

“O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die,” I said theatrically, my hand caressing the stick as my tongue shot out to French kiss the lollipop. With a jolt, I slid down to the floor, my body thrashing in dramatic convulsions.

Amber pinched her lips together, and I knew she was chastising herself for feeling amused. I grinned and arched my brows.

“Shakespeare consorted with the devil,” Amber lectured, and I groaned.

“Oh my God, Amber! Seriously?” I asked before leaning against the counter next to her and stuffing the dumdum in my mouth. She ignored me.

“The Abbess has corrupted you,” I concluded around the sweet lump, the sugar melting comfortably against my tongue.

Amber shifted but still ignored me. Her strawberry blonde hair, pulled tightly up on top of her head, seemed to chastise me quietly as she turned her head away. I tried not to let it bother me as I watched her. But it did.

 With her flawless skin and deep blue eyes, Amber looked every bit the Angel. And she thrived off acting the part she wore so well in appearance. Good thing too since, by all appearances, I was the devil incarnate.

“Just a little salt and pepper maybe?” I goaded as she stirred the soup on the stove.

It would slow cook throughout the day, but that wouldn’t improve the flavor. At least Diane wasn’t on kitchen duty. I preferred tasteless over charred. She could clean but damned if she could cook.

“You need to start conforming more,” Amber murmured quietly.

I growled. God, I hated that word!

“No chance of that, sister dear. Love me for the heathen I am,” I replied with an impish grin while holding my heart forlornly.  She wasn’t impressed. 

“I think the Abbey actually makes you surlier,” I said with a snort. “If that be possible.”

Amber didn’t bother to reply. I fought not to grumble. She bent to her work, and I frowned. Every once in a while, Amber reminded me of mom. I shut the thought down quickly, worrying the wound I'd opened earlier in the bathroom.

Don't feel. Just retreat.
I wouldn’t think about them. Not now. Not today. My heart clenched. There are some things time can’t heal.

“The Abbey has a long history, Dayton, and an even longer tradition. Don’t always knock it so much, huh?” Amber said carefully as she stepped away from the stove and glanced at her watch.

I frowned. Her words about "being accepted into the fold" rang through my head. There was no way to repair this week. Too much had transpired, and the Abbey was the worst part. It was my modern day Hades. The Sisters were constantly filling my sister’s head with drivel. I blamed them for the tension between us, and I didn’t appreciate the rift. Damn it, I missed my sister!

“Been talking to Lady Ky much? We won’t be here forever, Amber. Why are you so set on this place?” I asked her with a "crunch." Oh yeah, cotton candy heaven. I never make it through the whole lollipop. I wouldn’t win the "how many licks does it take to finish the dumdum" contest.

“Didn’t you know the Abbess is secretly a foul monster dressed as a penguin?” I asked.

I grinned at her but, truth is, I believed the monster part. Her idea of guardianship translated into overbearing tyranny. I, personally, had no desire to please her. If there was any reason to be bulimic, she’d be it. Gag. But, while I maintained my distance, my sister seemed obsessed with pleasing both Lady Ky and the robed women that made the Abbey their home. It drove me nuts. "
He said her aura was black."
I shivered.

“Just sayin’. If the bird man can escape Alcatraz, we can escape Blackstone,” I said around the now crumbled candy. Amber fidgeted.

“Maybe I don’t want to leave, Dayton. Maybe there’s more purpose here than you think."

 My mouth dropped open. I had always suspected her interest in the Order, but I never suspected it was more than curiosity.

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

 Amber kicked me in the shin. Jesus!

“Damn it, Amber!”

 Amber looked ready to kick me again.

“Drop the cursing, Day,” Amber ordered as I hopped around the kitchen nursing my throbbing ankle.

“Lecture me next time, would you. Save the physical abuse for the crones."

Amber shook her head. She hated when I referred to the Sisters that way. And I was all about disappointing lately. I just didn’t see what the big deal about the Abbey was. Amber was in her first year of college and still living here. I didn’t understand it. God help me if Amber really decided to become a nun. A thought passed fleetingly through my head, and I frowned. Surely not . . .

“You can’t replace her you know,” I said quietly.

Our mother. That's who I meant, and Amber knew it. She stiffened before swinging around, her hands on her hips and her glaring gaze meeting mine evenly. It made my heart clench.

“I’m not trying to replace anyone, Day!” Amber argued, her shock and anger evident as she moved close enough to me her nose almost touched my forehead. I hadn’t inherited my father’s height gene. It showed.