Page 16 of Wolfsbane Hall
6
Friday, November 3, 1939
Celestine’s Bedroom
After painfully extracting herself from James, she returned to her rooms.
Unfortunately, as soon as she made it under her sheets, the weight of the night hit her, and her body reacted.
Horrifically.
Celestine trembled uncontrollably, curling up into her covers, the sheets pulled up to her chin. Her eyes were pinched shut. If she ran away from the reality of what she had done, if she pretended it didn’t exist, she would be okay…right? But despite all her efforts, the darkness still seeped into her soul.
This reaction wasn’t nearly as severe as the moment right after she’d killed James, but it wasn’t much better either. Anytime she killed, it required days for her to recover. But if Celestine closed her eyes, tucked into a ball, breathed through her nose, and begged the world to disappear, she’d usually manage to get through it faster.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Celestine’s door rattled as her head popped out of the covers, and her eyes met those of a drunken Everett Ashbrook—who had just forced said door open. He poured into herroom like a waterfall down a canyon. Loud, destructive, and beautiful.
She let out a loud sigh. Well, there went her recovery.
Everett was highly inebriated, with four ladies dripping off his arms like diamonds. Two on each side. One of whom was Babette, who seemed to be equally as intoxicated as him.
That bred disaster.
The two had what could only be described as an interesting, if volatile, relationship.
“Come party with us, Celestial,” Everett said, a lilting slur to his voice. When she didn’t respond, he added, “Come on, Cece, let the good times roll!”
Everett ran a hand through the hair of one of his ladies as he stared Celestine down, tempting her into his debauchery. He was a playboy made manifest, fabricated from pure passion. Sometimes, Celestine enjoyed the distractions and pleasures he could bring. But not right now.
She didn’t want to be around anyone except the Specter.
“Drink away all your cares, Teetee.” Everett hiccupped as he said the nickname he knew she hated, trying to provoke her.
Celestine fought the urge to roll her eyes. He typically called her Teetee when he was being excessively irritating or dramatic. He was the most hyperbolic person she’d ever met. And he enjoyed provoking emotions—any emotion, which was why he loved Wolfsbane Hall.
While James enjoyed the physical pain of dying over and over again, Everett enjoyed the drama of the shows. He worked for the Specter because he loved plucking people’s strings. He liked seeing what they would do when they were cornered.
Which was precisely why he enjoyed tempting Celestine into anger—or at least trying. He wanted her to yell at him. He wanted his words to wound her, for passion to spill from her like blood.
But it wouldn’t work.
This was the side of Everett she didn’t particularly enjoy. At least it only came out on rare occasions.
“Cece, come play with us.”
“I truly shouldn’t.” She tried to smile brightly, but she was slightly off-kilter and struggled to hide her emotions. Celestine sucked in a breath and grasped the blankets tight, her knuckles growing white. She needed to ground herself enough to conceal her panic from the man. But it wasn’t working. “I must wait.”
“Ah, yes.” Everett made a theatrical motion with his arms. “It’s your private time with the Specter. Time to debrief?” He suggestively pinched his nose, his eyebrows raising with the gesture.
Everett knew there’d never been a physical relationship between her and the Specter—especially since he never took physical form—but he still teased her relentlessly about it. Besides, Celestine’s only sexual relationship outside the show was with James. Precisely why he had wanted her to join him inhisfestivities. He wanted to fuck her hard until she screamed his name. But as much as she enjoyed that particular activity—as much as she tried to forget about everything—her body wasn’t up for it. Her heart was too weak. It could give out at any minute.
“Leave her alone,” Dean said, cutting a path through his twin and ladies.
“Ah, I forgot you were her bodyguard.” Everett slurred his words and stumbled a little as Babette held him up.
“I make sure the cast is safe and comfortable after the show, brother.” Dean flashed a false smile—all teeth. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have to, if people like yourself didn’t bother them so much.”
