Page 4 of Cursed Lifeline

"Esme," a voice suddenly calls out through the clearing.

Turning quickly, the fog mysteriously dissipates as my brother, Alfred, confidently walks towards me and studies my distress with a wary eye.

"It's time to dress for dinner," he reminds me dubiously. "Guests will arrive in under an hour."

His watchful gaze drifts over my shoulder, and I follow his line of sight back to the raven.

But it's gone.

It vanished, just like the eerie mist, the inauspicious creature, and the eyes that have recently started to follow and haunt me at night.

Two

FELIX

Song: Bring Me To Life | Evanescence

"Doyou think they're expecting us?" Talon smirks as we climb the steps of the grand Martin Manor.

Shadows cast by flickering sconces play tricks with my eyes. They quickly perform a dreary scene. A foreboding dance.

A girl. A boy. A chase.

Forbidden love. Sudden death.

If I blinked too fast, I'd miss their threatening display.

I cast a cautionary glare over my right shoulder. Talon gives me a cocky shrug and a wolfish grin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he climbs the stairs behind me with predatory purpose. My other coven brother, Dimitri, follows closely after him.

Facing forward and straightening my lapels, I grit out, "In the hundred years we've served by each other's side, Talon, how often have you known me to make uninvited house calls?"

Without having to knock, the door's hinges creak as it's slowly opened from within, proving my point.

Talon grins, holding in what appears to be a sinister secret as his grim shadows twirl portentously before my eyes. His ability to control darkness and command phantom shapes has undoubtedly gone to his head. I'll have to speak with Drusilla about it.

"And save your shadow tricks for someone who'll believe them," I warn, "before I remind you whose leadership you follow and the repercussions you'll face if you continue to insinuate we're nothing but fools."

"I'd never imply you're unwise," he flatters mockingly. "Merely cautioning to beware. Tricks parade as treats. When you realize they're sour, it's typically too late."

The massive wood doors groan as they're pulled open wider, revealing a bustling entryway filled with dapperly dressed gentlemen and elegantly clothed ladies. Music floats my way from a ballroom just beyond the grand space. Men and women drift in and out of the reception area, sipping champagne, giggling, and laughing with their conquests for the night.

The men flaunt their wealth and stature like turkeys strutting around an open field. The women, ever playing the part of an innocent butterfly, float from gentleman to gentleman and do their best to look unamused. Their chaperones stick close to their sides, drawing the women back in if they stray too far into dark, unattended corners with a strutting Tom.

My gaze skims the scene before landing on the smiling face of the older gentleman who has come to greet us.

"Felix Caldwell?" he questions. I nod. "We've been eagerly awaiting your arrival."

I glance at Talon, whose smug face is now searching beyond the entryway, surveying the delicious options readily available for tasting.

"Careful," I warn under my breath. "You're drooling."

He grunts in annoyance because he knows we've come in peace. No blood will be shed. At least not tonight. We've been called here to deal with an uprising revolution the government and Lords and Ladies of France can't control.

"The master is indisposed," the gentleman offers, "but he'll meet you in the study."

The butler steps back from the door and gestures down a long hallway to the left.

My hesitant gaze drifts to the ground, to the line I was eager to cross mere minutes ago until Talon's shadows forewarned me to be wary as we venture further into tonight's gathering. The memory of the mournful display causes an alarming chill to trail its monitory fingers through the far recesses of my mind, but I ignore their persistent, threatening bite and let out a heavy sigh as I toe the line in front of me.

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