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I scowl and look up at the house rather than her, part of me questioning that in my own thoughts. It’s not like the place should dictate the person, but this is Manhattan now, things are different. No dark corners here. No seas of writhing bodies crafting an atmosphere. It’s cold and bright and people are everywhere doing normal things.
She sways towards me, her long sliver dress seeming more like a Marilyn Monroe outfit than something any normal person would wear these days. “Maybe you should have some pills, Hannah. Remember who you are. It won’t work unless you seduce him into it. This,” she says, circling me. “Isn’t seductive at all. Fear and well-behaved sentiments shouldn’t be seen by men like Gray. Got to keep them on their toes, pretty thing. Take charge.”
Her hand puts pressure on my shoulder, guiding me back into the house to follow in Malachi’s wake. “Relax. Remember. You’re stronger than him now. More able to deal with his denial. Silly men. So trying. Malachi’s the same. Especially when we get back here and he becomes normal again.”
I’m not sure what Malachi is, but normal isn’t a word I’d use in any setting.
She guides me further, eventually rounding us up the stairs towards the bedrooms. Passed the one I’m staying in. Passed the one Malachi’s staying in. And into hers.
“Now then, what shade would you like?” she says, walking us into a huge walk in closet and directing me to the line of ball gowns.
I gape at the rainbow of colours on show, matching heels and jewellery set off to the right in glass cabinets. “What for?”
“The party?”
“Oh, yes. Right.”
She smiles and lifts a section of colours off the racks, dragging her long fingers delicately over the fabric as if soothing a frightened animal, and then sways. Side to side, her arms out as if she’s waiting for a dance partner. “You’ll see. Choose a dress. And shoes. And jewellery. Slowly, slowly, pretty thing. It won’t be long now as long as you use yourself correctly.”
“I don’t understand.”
She pulls a small, green box out of a secluded area and walks towards me, opening it. “Take one. You’ll understand then. Like you did before.” Hundreds of pills lie neatly arranged in their holdings, sharp cuts of black lines separating them, familiar stripes in place. “Let yourself flow again. Stop trying to be the old Hannah. It’s so much easier that way.”
“Malachi said we shouldn’t out here.” My tongue licks over my lips, a sense of calm coming just at the thought of them.
“Well, we shouldn’t always do what the men say. Relax Hannah. You’ll get your truths. Be ready for them.”
My hand delves in, a selection of different colours taken. It’s not like I can’t handle them. Just a few. She’s probably right. Not now, though. Maybe later when the party starts. Fun. Happiness. She smiles again and skips back towards the cupboard, reaching for something else.
“And you must have one of these,” she murmurs, handing me a little red capsule. “For when everything seems too much. It makes it all go away. He might get angry because he can’t process.” I watch her clap again as I take it from her, her feet almost bouncing. “All the confusion. All the worries. It all just goes away.” She laughs and turns for the clothes again. “They’re Gray’s most special ones. For his most precious people.”
Red. I inspect it, looking at the diagonal lines and wondering why I’ve never seen them before if they’re the best ones. “They weren’t at the castle.”
“No. They’re for out here. In the real world. Don’t tell him you’ve got one. He’ll be mad at me for giving away his treats.”
Oh.
I snicker a little and look over the dresses, not sure I care if he’ll tell her, or me, off for anything. I’ll do whatever I want to do, and until he tells me my truths, he has no right to tell me anything other than that.
Chapter 5
Gray
Throwing the invitation that I shouldn’t have been looking at on the table, I amble the lines of my apartment trying to counter the need to go to the damn place. I’m not in the mood for parties. Parties are for fun and frivolities, none of which I deserve or want out here in this real world around me.
I stop by a sculpture, drawn to the near screaming face that seems to echo the same sensation within me, and glare at it. That’s what I feel like I’m doing now – screaming internally at myself, fighting with feelings that shouldn’t live inside me. It was a good time. A time that made me smile for a while and live in a life that wasn’t mine. It doesn’t matter that she’s back here, and it doesn’t matter that I want nothing more than to go to the fucking party and see her.
I’m not going.
Damn Malachi’s games.
And lost her?
Fool.
Another grumble falls from me, every fucking curse I can find in my mind following it. Tempting asshole. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and has probably staged the whole damn scenario to make it all seem as provocative as possible. If I didn’t know better, I’d even say he’s dropped a last minute party to make this happen, but he hasn’t.
I turn back to look at the gold trimmed card lying on the table, infuriated with the baiting it holds. This is the annual death charity, the one I’m supposed to throw money at and paint my face for.
