Page 124
Christian accepts my silence as we make our way up the hidden staircase. As we round the corner to my room, Christian abruptly conceals himself in an alcove. I stifle an amused smile as Tania spots me and waves.
“Tania, how can I help you?” Leaving my shadow behind, I meet her at my door.
“Is it too much to ask if I can help you get dressed tonight?” A sharp sadness stirs in me. I struggle with a response. But she continues. “Please. It’s been so long. My son—he’s not the loving type. Forget about his friends; it’s like I don’t exist. You’re the only one…who’s been kind.”
“Yes. Come on, we can make it fun.”
We enter my room and the storm outside deepens, but inside, something else begins to unfurl. Something old and bright and dangerous.
Almost an hour later, Tania has assisted me in grooming myself into a woman worthy of the dress that now hugs every curve and crook of my body. With every swish of fabric, a calm envelops me.
I turn to Misty. “What do you think?” Her ear perks and she tilts her head, studying me with that knowing way that dogs possess.
One day, I am convinced we will understand each other perfectly. For now, I accept the soft nudge of her snout as she lumbers over and places her head in my hand.
“You look amazing.” Tania’s eyes glow with a warm motherly light that almost makes me forget that I once suspected her of being a serpent.
“Thank you.” I rest my hands against the curve of my neck, feeling my pulse beneath my fingertips. Each thump is a reminder that I am alive, that I should be grateful I landed here in this haunted sanctuary instead of waking in some darker nightmare. Gratitude feels fragile, but present.
“I will see you in a few,” she says, smoothing the fabric at my hip. “I’m happy you will be joining us. This event will likely be the last time we host something like this.”
“Are you moving?” Was she one of the dead?
“No.” She breathes a small laugh. “Just a feeling.”
Tania closes the space between us and wraps me in a hug. The scent of dried herbs and trapped sunlight washes over me. I lean into the rare affection, letting it warm the parts of me that have felt suspended in frost since the day I woke in this place. It feels nice and human. It feels like a moment stolen from another life entirely.
Walking into the rest of the house, without the eerie feeling of potential lurking monsters, feels different. It didn’t feel real like the earlier vision.
Tania stands at my side as we enter a gallantly transformed ballroom. The cavernous room of marble floors, iron chandeliers, and yawning hearths stretch around us in silence. Hundreds of candles line the perimeter adorning corners and sconces, and even strung from the chandeliers themselves. Gone were the lines of salt at each threshold.
“This place really doesn’t have reliable power, does it?” Peering over my shoulder, I study Tania. Her gaze is awash with something akin to sorrow. I shake her arm gently, until she straightens her features.
The whole scene reminds me of a stereotypical character who arrives at a castle, only to realize they’ve been led into the jaws of an ancient monster who’s ravenous for blood.
There are no clinking of glasses or murmured conversations that would belong to a normal party. Is this even real? The question is plausible considering everything.
Goosebumps scatter along the nape of my neck, blooming like frostbite. There are many people in attendance, though their faces are unrecognizable behind masks.
And it’s quiet, unsettlingly so.
“You have brought her.” My shadow murmurs from the corner of the room. Christian emerges, all broad shouldered and drenched in black.
Tania tenses, only for a fraction of a second before extending a hand.
“Sheriff.”
“Tania. Glad to see we’re on better terms today,” Christian replies.
“Marisa.” Christian gives me a respectful nod that feels more like a warning. Heat travels to my face and I have to avert my gaze.
My eyes drift to the far end of the room where several figures stand impossibly still. They are all adorned in sumptuous colors of velvet. A woman fans herself with an intricately woven hand fan, sipping champagne with dainty indulgence. Her steely gaze lands on me followed by a wink.
Beside her are three men. When one turns toward me, I recognize Dr. Marlowe. Relief unfurls, but the trust is quickly reeled in when I remember he was the one to have an affair with Daisy.
Tania guides us away from Christian toward a glistening cascade of champagne filled glasses. The opulence of it all does not hold charm, it’s dreadful. We’re in the maw of a watchful world, and it’s readying to close its sharp teeth around us. Death is imminent tonight. I just had to make sure Christian and I made it through to the other side.
“To the future.” Kieran makes his way around the champagne tower and clinks his glass against mine. Tania had placed one in my hand, when I wasn’t looking.
