Page 11 of These Eternal Bones
“How did–”
“Where were you going?” he asks, his voice like liquid tenor in my ears.
I glance up at the hooded driver before turning back toward the man. "Uh, town?” My mind swirls wildly, the answer leaving me more like a question.
My eyes dart down to the tick in his jaw, the odd network of lines…dark veins peeking out from underneath his high collar. “Then come, as was I.” I barely have time to protest before he’s opening the coach door, staring at me from underneath thick lashes. Nothing about this man invites argument, but I recognize the feeling in my gut.This, this is the cost of accepting his gifts, of stowing away on his estate.
He's come to collect.
I shake my head, taking a step back. “No, thank you, I’ve got the road now. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Syringa, if I wished to harm you, I would’ve by now.” His lips quirk, my eyes zeroing in on a pair of sharp canines that make my core heat in the most unsettling way. The wrong way. The way I am meant to avoid. He steps forward, his gloved hand finding my back and all but guiding me toward the open door.
“I really shouldn’t–”
“The woods can be dangerous at night; you should stick to your clearing.” He orders, his voice soft and stern.Myclearing.
“It’s the middle of the day,” I push back, my eyes widening on the lavish interior but most of all the smell. Spice and cedar explode on my tongue, making my mouth water as I reluctantly and entirely against my will take a seat.
He chuckles, gracefully climbing up after me, shutting the door to seal us in. Immediately, the air is thicker, decadent, albeit tight in my lungs. “Of course, but it won’t stay that way. Especially not for your journey home.”
Home.
Right, okay, breathe. You’ve technically known him for weeks, right? While incredibly ominous, there was truth to his words. If he meant to harm me, he could’ve. In fact, he’d done the opposite.
I wring my hands in my lap, studying them intently. Embarrassment flushing my neck. “About that, thank you…for letting me stay in the cottage. For helping me, I don’t have any coin to repay you. I’m actually trying to leave-” My head snaps up as the sound of ripping fabric fills the coach from the direction of his seat, but I’m caught again by his eyes. Such a dark shade of black that I can’t identify a pupil at all.
“I do not require coin, but if you’re concerned about repayment…we could start with a name.”
“A name?” I breathe, his odd eyes darting to my neck before grazing everything in its path back to my eyes.
“Yours, yes.”
“Oh, uh- Molly.”
“Molly.” My name sounds almost lewd in the way he whispers it, making my stomach feel strange. Giddy. My hands slam there, my cloak tugged tight, it's only then that I remember the state of me. How…disgusting I appear surrounded by rich velvet and silk around him.
“Elric.” He offers, tugging his black leather glove off almost eagerly as he offers me his hand. My cheeks must be a horrid shade of red as I place mine in his. His skin is hard, cold, and…soft, welcoming in a way it shouldn’t be. My mind blanks as he lifts it to his lips, pressing alingering kiss there, but all I can focus on is the dirt underneath my nails, the blisters on my hands, and the scuffed state of my knuckles. “It’s a pleasure, Molly, to meet you properly.” His eyes lift to mine, his lips still grazing my hand, soaking it in.
The past few weeks play like a horrific slideshow in my mind, reality settling in like a lead weight in my gut now that he’s here, truly here.
“In the woods that night, what–” the words slip past my lips before I can call them back.
He sighs, releasing my hand and righting himself, looking every bit the affluent, gothic lord I’ve spent the last few weeks painting him to be. “You simply caught me off guard.”
My breath shudders out of me, the memory of the cold, wet ground pressing into me. The way my body–
Suddenly, I feel sick; the movement of the coach is too much. “Are you a demon?”
His lips quirk at that. “I have been called as much, a time or two.”
My eyes dip again to the black veins on his neck, the walls of the coach tightening in on me.
Monsters are real.
The stories were…real.
My hand snaps out to the handle on the door, readying to fling myself out. I don’t even get a grasp on it before I’m pushed back into my seat. His movements are so fast that I’m hit with a wave of vertigo. Fast but…gentle. Even the grip he still holds on my wrist is featherlight as he hovers over me. “You are like the others then, Molly?”
