Page 8 of The Temptation of Roan Island

I felt the pleasure they’re feeling once. Back when I believed in love. A lifetime ago.

Looking away, my gaze scans the other windows for someone I’m not sure I want to find.

Is he as lost to pleasure as his brother? Does he have multiple partners or one who consumes all of his attention? Is he only drinking or…

I shiver, pull the blanket tighter, and turn to go back inside, but freeze in my tracks.

A scream lodges in my throat. A creature, a monster, a mask as white as snow stares out at me through the library window. Hollow holes that hide hollow eyes. A nose so long and pointed it spikes against the glass.

I blink.

The apparition is gone.

I clutch my chest, my heart racing. With a deep breath and an unsteady laugh, I shake my head. I must have imagined it. Certain my exploration created visions that aren’t there, I return to the library to force my imagination on less frightening pursuits.

5

SHEMAIAH

There’s a tediousness to new moon parties, a game that always makes us the victors. Disinterested in it all, I watch the revelers descend into bacchanal delights. Inhibitions are undone like trouser buttons and dresses. Bare bodies writhe, kissing, touching, sucking, fucking amid the alcohol and the drugs that undress propriety.

I’m bored. New moon parties lost their luster a long time ago, but I’m tied to this routine. I need the blood the prey offers.

Jocelin Renner, a wealthy socialite, spreads herself across a chaise lounge amid the revelers. Graham Pinkerton, an entrepreneur in imports and exports across Prisma, kneels on the floor, making her moan from whatever his mouth is doing beneath her full skirt. Thankfully, I can’t see it from where I sit next to her, fully clothed in my formal attire, but her exuberance is as loud and clear as his.

I’m but a prop in their tableau, my mouth attached to her wrist as I drink blood and release venom, heightening her pleasure. She won’t remember what I’ve done, not completely. She’ll remember me, our flirting, perhaps that I brought her pleasure along with her chosen partner for the night. But as drunk on alcohol and endorphins as she is now, my bite will be nothing more than a hazy dream.

I release Miss. Renner’s wrist, sliding my thumb over the holes my fangs made, spreading the venom evenly for rapid healing, then licking the remnants of blood from her skin. She pays me no mind, so deep in the throes of her own bliss, which is good. I don’t feel like pretending to be part of this story.

When I stand, she doesn’t notice, her hands gripping the lump of Pinkerton’s head. Her pleasure-filled cries follow me as I melt into the crowd, a harmony to the symphony of orgasms blending with the loud music.

The dais where my father used to hold court, as if he were a king presiding over these parties, is gone. We haven’t told anyone about his death yet, only that he’s indisposed tonight. I cautioned Noah to read our father’s will and speak with the lawyers before any public announcement. Hammish was known for his vindictiveness. He probably anticipated the possibility of his murder and established contingencies and consequences for the children he hated. Since Noah has yet to find the will—partly because he’s been too busy fucking his new bride—we’ve made excuses for our father’s absence.

We also invited a smaller group than normal. The conservatory isn’t the largest room in the house, but it’s big enough for our purposes tonight. There are chairs and loveseats, plush round benches set up around an open portion of the floor where guests can dance. Ivory wax drips from candles in floor stands shaped like dead trees placed at even intervals around the room. The wall closest to the house hosts little alcoves lined with heavy black curtains. When the party’s over, the curtains will be opened and fastened with heavy gold cording, decorated with thick tassels. For now, they obscure varied combinations of lovers.

Mrs. Darning will lead a troop of cleaners through tomorrow.

On a bench near the door, Zarah’s fangs are deep in a young man, her face lost in rapture and the satisfaction of blood. I hurriedly look away, certain her dress is hiding more than I want to consider. My sister deserves her freedom after what she’s gone through, but I’d rather not witness it.

Jafeth has Mrs. Potter, the head nurse at The New Essik Sanatorium, pressed against a window while her husband, a top man at one of the largest banks in New Essik, has his tongue down the throat of some politician across the room.

Noah and his wife are hidden somewhere. Exhibitionism never appealed to him the way it does my other siblings. He’s also inordinately possessive of Ruby.

Glancing away, I search for something—someone—I hope I won’t find. She shouldn’t be amidst this spectacle. Long hair the color of sunlight catches my attention, and my hearts thump, but the woman turns, revealing a wrinkled face and pointed nose. Not Pippa.

“There you are. We’ve been looking for you.” Anna startles me, taking my arm from behind. Her eyes are glassy, and she sways a little. Is she drunk?

To her right, a wide-eyed Kay twists her hands in her skirts, and my hearts sink that it’s just the two of them. Ridiculous. Pippa said she wasn’t coming. And she shouldn’t be here. None of these women should. They’re too ill for the festivities of a new moon. From Anna’s inebriation and the look on Kay’s face, I’d say they’re too green, as well. “Allow me to escort you to your rooms. I’m sure you’re quite exhausted.”

“No,” Anna whines. “We want to stay and dance. Dance with me, Shem.”

“Forgive me, but I’m ready to retire.” The moment the words are out, I realize they’re true. I’m done with this frivolous party.

“Don’t you need to… drink?” Kay whispers, her eyes straying to Zarah.

“I’ve had my fill.” Not quite true. I can still feel the hunger nipping my gut, but I’ve had enough to appease the monster within for now.

Anna sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “I wanted you to bite me.”