Page 32 of These Eternal Bones
“And if you continue to waste my time, I will throw you back!”
He glares openly before righting his clothes and stalking away. I take a deep breath, smelling her just as she opens the door, peeking her head out. A wild mess of copper atop her head. “Oh, hi,” she breathes out, wrapping herself tighter in her blanket as he relays my message.
She only frowns, glancing down at her food. “Why were you all the way over there?”
“I thought I dropped something.”
His curt, short tone seems to bounce right off the stunning woman. I have half a mind to strike him down where he stands for his rudeness, even if I understandwhy. The Nephilim wasn’t always in this constant state of anger. The reasoning is clear on his face as he nods his dismissal, heading back toward me in the wood line, the look in his eyes I recognize all too well.
Grief.
“Next time send the fucking Selkie.”
His quick intake of breath tells me my warning growl is heeded, reminding myself that killing a child of God, even a half-breed bastardized one, without good reason is perhaps a crime too great, even for me.
16
Lines Drawn in the Snow
Molly
M – O – L – L – Y.
I copy the letters written on the page, although my handwriting is nowhere near as elegant as his. Embarrassment presses in on me as he looks over, checking that I did a good job, only slightly dampened by his approval. To be twenty-three years old and not be able to write my own name…
I shake off the feeling the best I can, starting on another new line. It’s not like I didn’t want to learn. It simply wasn’t allowed, while also not being strictly forbidden. There was no reason other than women who could read and write were less dependent on the men who could, I would assume. They were quite wrong about that; I traveled across the oceanwithout either skill.
I found an employer and lodging, although the way I came into both is questionable at best.
I found magic.
Beings I thought were only reserved for horror stories, I found that they weren’t all that horrible. Over the past week, I’ve come to look forward to my quiet nights with Péal. My long, lazy days beside Elric. My job hardly feels much like one at all. Even Tien, the chimera, I learned, has quite warmed to me in his own quiet way. Settling in here is like slipping on an old glove. Everything is as it should be. So why does my chest feel so unsettled? Like something isn’t right, a piece is out of place. Disjointed and left unfinished.
Perhaps it’s because I know, however lovely, it won’t last.
I’m only here, surrounded by warmth, by spice and cedar and adoring, longing eyes, because I am leaving. That’s the plan, that was always the plan. New Isles, a place as far from New Eden as one can get without hurling themselves into the sun. One of the older women who’d drop off food shipments to New Eden would tell me about it in hushed tones while I helped unload her truck.
“Syringa, we’ve been at it long enough. Time for lunch, yes?”
I frown at the man, his chest exposed, the top of his shirt opening into a large V. One that shows the source of those dark veins covering his body. A black, inky mark, like an abyss right where his heart should be. Like most things about this man, it is equal parts beautiful and melancholy. “I think time has gotten the best of you again. I only just–”
My words cut off as my attention slides to the tall, narrow windows, the crisscross detailing there obscuring nothing as tiny, fat flakes fall from the sky.
“Molly?” His voice hits me, but I can’t bring myself to reply as I get to my feet, ignoring the uncomfortable tingling sensation in mylegs. I fumble, nearly upsetting the spool of ink. The plush pile of rich rugs I’d been lounging on most of the day abruptly gives way to the icy marble as I reach the window. My eyes widen and my heart flutters with amazement as my fingers graze the cold, damp glass.
“What is it, my love?”
My love.
The words are lost on me as a squeal bursts from my throat, knocking into the stone fortress of a man behind me as I bolt from the room, my hands fisting my skirts. I hit the stairs in record time, making a dark, shadowy creature yelp as I come close to it. As if touching me would be some grave offense. I ignore it and the shocked eyes of the Nephilim as I rush past him on the landing, my heart hammering in my chest.
Elric is behind me every step of the way, like usual, but I pay him no mind as I grip the narrow arched doorway of the sunroom, my eyes wide on the flurries outside the glass. An entirely uncharacteristic giggle escapes before I’m off again. The cold floor is nothing to me as I bypass the entryway of the castle, my feet hitting the elaborate stonework stairs before they’re met with grass. All around me, the gray, boring sky bursts to life, tiny chilled flakes swarming like fireflies as they whirl and twist. I turn my head upward, watching them dash between the branches of the trees as two arms band around me, ones that rival even the winter chill. “Open your mouth, you can catch them on your tongue.”
I don’t hesitate, opening wide, tongue hanging out like a dog, the tiny snowflakes catch on my eyelashes. The world pivots as those powerful arms leave me, replaced by a warm cloak. It's only then that I realize I’ve rushed out without one. I am patient now, though, waiting for a flake to land on my tongue. When it does, I laugh, spinning to tell Elric, only to find his intense eyes already on me. With such a heady look in his eyes, you’d swear I’d been the one to hang each flake on thewind. That I’d done it just for him. A flush spreads across my cheeks as I lower my eyes. “It doesn’t snow where I’m from…I-I had no idea–” I laugh, a little breathless. “I always wanted to see it.”
The smile he offers me only adds to my blushing. His inky hair, left down around his shoulders today, is wild and dusted with snowflakes. It's only then that I realize he’s grabbed my shoes, and like every night, he puts them on me. His hands daring, spending more and more time on my flesh. Instead of urging me inside like I’d expected, he sits on the steps of his castle, watching me as my teeth dig into my bottom lip. I truly do try my best to keep quiet, to not make a fool of myself, but the snow is falling wildly now, and I can’t hide my excitement.
It sticks to everything, white patches quickly gathering on the barren ground, and through it all, I giggle, run, and spin. Feeling very much like a little girl I have never met before but know well. All my life, she’s been there, deep down…waiting until it was safe to peek out. It seems now it is all under the watchful eye of a creature whom many fear. The Vampire of Port Clyde soon loses out against his restraint, joining me amongst the flurries. Where I spin, he stalks, where I dance, he mirrors. I am being stalked, but I have grown quite used to it. Even if the fluttering deep inside me begs to differ. It’s not until I turn, ready to bolt from him, that his hand snaps out, catching my wrist. His tendrils suddenly materialize, snagging my ankles and waist with a gentle caress. “What?” I gasp.
