Page 24 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
I sent Francis a quick glance, noting he was still watching me, a glass in his hand.
“On—humiliating Francis?” My brows furrowed.
“No silly!” she laughed. “Dancing! You were fabulous, you must tutor me.”
“Oh. Of course,” I replied to Florence, not exactly confident in what I’d just agreed to, but the bright smile spread across her face let me know my answer had satisfied her.
“Splendid!” Florence put a glass in my hand, urging me to drink. “You should have some.”
“I think I’ve had enough for tonight.” The idea of having any more alcohol in my veins made me nauseous. I should keep my head clear.
“It is not wine, Cordelia.” Florence whispered, “You must have some before humans arrive.”
My eyes flew toward her. Had I heard her correctly? The hair on my neck rose.
“Why would the humans come here?” I asked her, already guessing the answer.
Florence sighed as if trying to explain to a child why fire was hot, yet she stayed quiet. Shaking my head, I took a step backwards, my mind went into stupor.
“Take it,” Florence shoved the drink into my hand, the smile on her face was long gone, and I could not remember if I’d ever seen her glum before.
My mind was occupied with dozens of awful images. My mouth went numb; nausea came in with great force, covering my skin in an icy sweat.
The doors to the ballroom flew wide open, letting a dozen people through.
My throat itched; I instinctively covered it with my hand. Their smell reached my nostrils, my lungs ached. The delightful aroma overwhelmed me, somehow I immediately knew the smell was of the human flesh.
It had not yet crossed my mind where the blood Florence brought me had come from. I’d been so worried for my own sanity, I’d cared not for the formalities of my new state.
No.
My head shook: in disapproval or disbelief—I was not sure. I would rather set myself on fire than participate in this nonsense.
Though Florence did not seem to care, trying to put the glass to my lips. “Drink it,” she hissed at me. “Before you do something you will regret.” She said, her stern tone left no room for an argument. Nothing of sunshine-Florence was left on her face. “Drink, Cordelia.”
My trembling hands took the drink from her, obeying her requests. I emptied it, immediately noting that the drink she’d given me did not taste quite as good as the aroma coming from the group standing by the entrance of the ballroom.
“Good,” Florence nodded, sighing in relief. She took the empty glass from my hand, hugging me tightly; although I could not return the hug this time. Paralyzed, all I was capable of doing was watching the scene that played out in front of me.
A dozen humans were at the mercy of the devil’s creatures, their throats were on display before sharp teeth pierced their smooth skin.
Chapter 9
A Gift
