The Key (Sanguinem Emere) (9 page)

I open my eyes again and stare at the ceiling, trying not to sniff back the confusion too audibly, unable to wipe the tears from my face for fear of waking my sister.

Last night, after we were dismissed, Cecily and Delilah took me to the kitchen again (it seems to be the general point of comfort in the house); an invitation was extended to the esteemed Miss Von Hagt as well, but she refused, her pallor still somewhat wasted after the uncertain incident of Dimitri’s disapproval. Of course she would not admit to be being shaken, rather she sneered and muttered a near-audible exclamation against our unwanted company. It seemed acceptable. None of us wanted her there anyway.

We spoke for, what felt like, hours about everything, Dimitri, Melinda, and Levi. Whom they warned me about. They said I shouldn’t trust him. Apparently he has a way of getting to you at your worst.

I’m just not sure what to think

I remember receiving unnaturally acute glances from Delilah as Cecily made hot chocolate, brewed step-by-step in that irritatingly fastidious way she used to make it when we were little girls. My silence didn’t aid matters as the hopeful, patient expression gracing my friend’s artfully painted features became marred by the small frown which, in my eyes, is becoming a standard of her face as of the last few days. Since seeing her in this strange place.

And then there was the bracelet Dimitri gave me. I couldn’t bear not to wear it. But the look I got from the girls really set me back. Like daggers in their eyes. Not just Melinda in the study, but Cess and Delilah gave me the same unhappy looks, perhaps not as vicious.

It’s obvious to me the bracelet was hers.

I couldn’t talk about it.

About the depth of feeling that had begun to well up inside me for a man who had been a simple object of lust a night ago, and is now supposed to be the subject for a written piece. But seems to be so much more. Why am I lying to myself? He was more than that at Delilah’s party too. He has been for a while. My jealous response to the possibility of other women alone should be enough to tell me so.

Nor could I talk about the fact that the thought of sharing him made me want to claw up Delilah’s pretty face. Nor about the incident involving my sister and Bram which now seemed that much more poignant bearing current circumstances in mind.

It seemed staged. It still does, but now I have had time to mull things over, and a distinct calm has erased my fear and insecurity to a degree.

Delilah is many things, but I had never believed her to be insightful until last night. She allowed me to sit still and quiet at the kitchen counter as she and Cecily took it in turns to babble away about how fortunate I am. They told me more stories about Levi and how he takes liberties with them when he can, but fears retribution from Dimitri, so neither are too directly concerned by his slithering advances. Delilah soon resembled the girl I knew (or at least I thought I did) as she threw herself back into the temptress role, flashing me evil little smiles as she attempted to pry into the details of my night alone with Dimitri.

Cecily’s giggles of happiness soothed my shattered nerves, for the first time in six months, and at no point did I feel inclined to punch her nose into her brain.

This chatter, with me a silent advocate, continued on until about eleven in the evening, when Delilah put a strict end to Cecily’s stream of talk and anecdotes, insisting that the next day would be far too crucial for any of us to afford exhaustion.

I trudged up the staircase, dejected and swiftly reaching the end of my tether. I had stepped foot in this house – well actually I hadn’t – expecting certain normal events to follow. Instead I had been made privy to what felt like a massive secret and been practically drugged (granted, that part was of my own volition) and cruelly manipulated because of it. What I couldn’t understand as I walked towards the door at the end of the hallway, the one marked off as the entrance to my bedroom, was why the fact that Dimitri Kron kept a number of women as his companions was such a massive taboo. In my time as a celebrity reporter, I have encountered so many quirky stories that my sense of morality has become skewed to the point that nothing shocks me anymore. But something about this affair with Dimitri makes my skin crawl enough for me to keep my mouth shut on the matter. Of course, I would anyway. Because I think he would disapprove otherwise.

Naturally, there is the matter of the blonde man, Levi, to be concerned about. What if he attempts another swing at me? Or worse, what if he only did so to see what my reaction would be?

I loathe feeling this way. Being uncertain as to whether or not I measure up. And then actually hoping he finds me attractive, despite how much he sickens me. Bu that is a woman’s curse, I suppose.

And so I climbed the staircase and waltzed into the room; marvelling again at the decadent furnishing, stirring my sense of taste to the extent that I would have approved of my need to cry at how pretty the room is.

One tear fell.

And then I began crying in earnest and could not deliberate on the reason for my distress, other than the knowledge that Dimitri’s smile had appeared particularly gentle as he disappeared out the door after I had spent near on two entire days’ worth of energy trying to calm myself for his appearance.

What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn’t have been certain enough to tell you. All I could think was Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri. I could vividly trace the curve of his lips as he instructed me for the day to come and I could virtually see his thought process as he dictated my task.

He doesn’t think I can do it either.

As the tears began to trail harder and faster down my cheeks, I found myself sobbing on the floor and tried to stifle the noise. Like some sort of wounded creature. But I could hear the footsteps rushing towards my door.

Dimitri?

Thank god the lights were still out. The room lay bathed in shadow much as it had earlier this evening, only with more intention. The foliage leered at me from the darkness. Grotesque misshapen monsters.

“Eva?”

Just Cecily. Simultaneously I could feel my heart clench up and release as my sister’s feather-soft footfalls followed me into the darkness. I snapped back from my self-pity, wiping at the tears still on my face as I crouched on the floor. Cecily’s hand found my hair and she gently pulled her fingers through it, stopping at the tangles and coaxing them loose with barely a tug.

Oddly, I found her closeness comforting and could almost have been tempted to curve up towards her touch.

Almost.

I stood, raking my sister’s hand away from me, despite the hesitation in her approach thereafter. I could only hope that she did not see my aggravation for what it was and simply put it down to my discomfort at the events of the last forty eight hours.

“Honey, are you alright?” Her meekness only irritated me further.

Alright? Of course, I wasn’t alright. Between the betrayal of my heart by my boyfriend and the woman in front of me, the betrayal of my own sense of pride being tricked into camping out here by a man that I hardly knew (and knowing that I wouldn’t leave even if the chance presented itself), and the final betrayal of knowing that Cecily and Delilah had known about this all along, I felt as though the only acceptable result to this equation would be for the world to open up beneath my feet and remove me from this conundrum.

But naturally I couldn’t say any of this to Cecily.

My baby sister’s eyes shone at me from out of the darkness and I could almost see the lilt of a shadow as she smiled and her cool hand found mine, guiding me to the edge of the bed.

“Don’t be angry with me, Eva,” My heckles rose before she could clarify her wording, “I know you want to be alone, probably. I also know you have really good reason for being so scarce these last few months. Alex wouldn’t have said so otherwise; he seriously worries about you, you know.”

“Look, Cess-”

“What I was going to say was that I didn’t come in here to disturb you or interfere with any time you needed alone. But I heard you crying. And Dimitri said to me on Friday that you may have difficulty in coping with what’s going on. He said if you seemed like you needed me I should make myself available.”

“Friday?” My voice sounded inaudible to me. Like this new betrayal was so terrible a slap in the face that saying it any louder would make it too real to grasp.

Cecily’s fingers snatched towards me and grasped my face before I could pull away, holding my skull between her hands like an organic vice. I glowered at her from my human cage, trying to calm my temper. Of course they all knew about it as early as, if not earlier than, the night before Delilah’s party. It only makes sense now. Even as I had considered not giving any of my peers at the event the satisfaction of seeing me leaving for a tryst with a man, still I had gone upstairs with him. Why? Because my dear, sweet Delilah had arranged it.

He had been searching for another girl to add to his collection and Delilah had suggested me.

“He wanted me to keep an eye on you and to give you whatever you need to make this less difficult for you,” She said as she released my face to dig through a small, beaded sling bag over her shoulder. Pulling out a glinting little container, possibly a flask, she placed it in my hand. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”

I didn’t need to say anything, the look on my face was enough to make her snort back a giggle as she shook her head, “No, I’m not trying to drug you. He gave it to me too, and Delilah. It’s kind of like tonic, except it tastes more like…

“Well, I can’t say,” She giggled again, her hand slightly shaky as she twisted off the lid of the flask, “You’ll have to try it for yourself.”

“Cecily, listen, I really don’t want you to think I’m turning away your offer. It’s sweet. And it was kind of you to be here with me; you are right. I feel a bit like Alice’s doppelganger as she dropped down the rabbit hole. But you know I can’t just drink whatever is in there. Be reasonable. You must realise that you’re acting insane.” I nearly yelled the last word, my sense of decency and consideration for her delicate feelings shattered and ruined at this point. I could feel my lip beginning to tremble and the interior of my eyelids growing grainy and burning with pain as irrational tears welled up. It made me furious.

Cecily pushed the bottle closer to me, enticing me to drink and I felt a wave of aggravation at her inability to feel any empathy whatsoever. That she would still be incapable of reading my intentions, desires and deepest regrets after all this time. My hand rose to fling the flask from her fingers.

Dimitri and his special tonic be damned.

But then the smell rising from the flask reached me, and for a tense few moments I couldn’t move. After a few minutes, or perhaps it was closer to hours, my lungs forced me to take in a breath and as I did so, the scent morphed into a taste on the air and came to rest at the back of my throat.

Familiar. Yes. But so much more than that. The smell was indescribable in that way that people say it with a look of remembering a time less complicated, pasted over their faces. But for me it transformed into visions of Dimitri. His black hair, almost indigo falling into his eyes and the silken scratch of his beard against my skin. The way his hands were always so cold even before I knew him intimately.

With the smell gliding across my senses and the vision of him in my mind, the thought of him and I alone together made my stomach do strange things. My untold muscles clenched all over and again the same tears that I hate, hate, hate!

I blinked them back rapidly as Cecily’s voice spoke to me from somewhere that was not here and I strained to concentrate on her words, “Remember when I was five, Eva, and I had climbed into that great, massive tree in the back garden? I couldn’t get down and Alex wasn’t there to help me. I wouldn’t let you run for mama or daddy because they had made me promise not to climb the damn thing. I didn’t want to come down and be given a hiding so I stayed perched in the tree and eventually you told me to jump and said you would catch me, remember?”

“Get to the point.”

“Well, even then I didn’t want to. But you promised me you would catch me. All I had to do was trust you and I would be well and safe and back with all of you again. And you did catch me.

“Even though you couldn’t walk for three days after that.”

“You’re saying I should drink this… miraculous libation. That I should trust you?”

“No,” Cecily’s voice is reedy and hoarse all at once as though she is wrestling with something, “I’m saying you should trust him.”

That gave me pause, like she’d slapped me through the face to knock the sense back into me. But still I was undeterred. “And what if it isn’t okay at the end of it all, Cecily? What if after everything I don’t make it back to the safety of the ground because nobody’s there to catch me?”

Cecily giggled and then muttered, plainly and succinctly, “Of course he’ll be there, Dumb Dumb. He’s a god.”

Doubts still rallied at me from the recesses of my mind like a whispering wind in the darkness, but the scent driven towards me from the flask made me neglect to question further as Cecily stumbled for an answer to my concern.

I took the vessel from her hands and drank.

I can’t describe the taste. As Cecily so eloquently stated, there is no fitting manner in which such a flavour can be explained. Manna from heaven? Possibly.