Page 13 of Our Vicious Descent
Analia shook her head. Her hand, still warm against Elise’s cheek, felt like the relief of rain on a hot day. “I do not seek forgiveness from my children. I love you, and I know you love me. Everything else is nonsense.”
Elise tried to listen to her mother’s words, but just a slight look behind her led her to her father’s gaze trained right on them from several feet away. Time and stress had sprouted new gray in his hair and lines in his face, but the visceral resentment in his eyes had not aged a day. Acid pooled in Elise’s throat, and her stomach lurched. Analia took one glance back before she pulled Elise into her.
“I will call our driver and take you back to the house. Let’s get you home and away from this…” Analia continued to tug Elise through the gardens, further from the crowds. Just steps away from the entrance, Elise’s shoe snagged on something. She reached down, expecting a root, but instead, her hand came back up with a white ribbon. Blood stained nearly half of it.
Elise bit back a gasp. The ribbon could have been anyone’s, but the blood made her chest tighten with panic. She looked up at her mother, whose face had gone ashen.
“Josephine…” Analia whispered. Her breath hitched, and Elise reached for her arm, hoping to steady her, but Analia was already taking off. “Josi!” she screamed. “Josephine!”
All Elise could do was try to catch up to her mother. But even with her own adrenaline, fueled by the thought of finally finding her younger sister, she remained one step behind. The sounds of the crowd faded behind them the farther they drifted into the gardens.Shadows moved around her, and Elise suddenly remembered the real threat of reapers. She called out for her mother, but it was no use.
Suddenly Analia stopped, and it wasn’t until Elise looked down that she realized why. That girl Layla had attacked sat crumpled on the ground. She rocked forward on her hands and knees, a low moan leaving her as she sat up to face Analia. Even from several feet away, Elise saw the blood pouring from her eyes. Black veins spider-webbed across her face like cracks spreading through delicate china.
“I’ll get help—” The moment Elise took one step toward her mother, a massive form shifted in the darkness ahead of them. Heavy footsteps shook the ground, and before Elise could register the danger, blood flew from the young woman’s mouth, splattering over Elise’s face. She blinked past it, gasping at the sight of talons poking through the woman’s chest. Just above her lolling head, Elise found red eyes boring into her through the darkness.
As Elise pulled her gun from her belt, the beast drew nearer. She opened her mouth to scream while her hand closed around the gun. Before the words even left her throat, her mother threw her body into her. Elise hit the ground so hard, her teeth rattled. She looked up just in time to see the beast shove its other taloned hand through her mother’s chest. Bones snapped and muscle fibers tore as it ripped Analia in two. The creature flung her so hard, parts of Analia’s body flew into the crowd yards away. Blood sprayed, coating Elise with a blanket of wet warmth. It continued to rain down for what felt like an eternity, even as the beast retreated, seemingly spooked by thesudden commotion of the guests. Screams started in the distance, but they lowered to a faint buzz against the roar of her pulse in her ears. She walked slowly toward her mother’s remains. The ground beneath her boots was so slick with blood, her knees suddenly buckled, sending her sprawling in the grass.
Wrapped around her mother’s leg, like a snare holding prey, was another white ribbon, soaked through with blood.
8
Layla dreamed of her and blood again. Everywhere she looked in the darkness, she saw Elise’s face and heard her song. The melody, once sweet and pure, had turned haunting in a matter of weeks. Even the keys she played seemed to bleed, her fingers dripping scarlet and smearing blood along the porcelain pieces. It wasn’t until Elise finished the song and turned around that Layla saw the disgust on her face.
Oh, Layla. You have turned into something worse than death itself, the Saint murmured. Disgust melted into pure fear as her eyes trailed back to the piano. Beneath the lid, several body parts stuck out, from severed arms to rotting rib cages and heads full of hair.Layla…look what you’ve done…
Distance, Layla found, did not make the heart grow fonder, but instead more voracious. Layla still sensed Elise all around her. It was more than just her scent; this time she felt a bone-deep gnawing, likeElise herself had made a home in her. All the prickly, angry parts of the Saint heiress seemed bound to Layla. She began to fear what she might do to rid herself of any thoughts of her. Layla was beginning to hate how destructive Elise’s presence made her feel. The past few weeks had told her enough about their compatibility. Hunger consumed her and left her empty, but Layla craved more than just Elise’s blood. She feared nothing would stop the yearning that built in her every day.
The piano started again, this time more monotonous and juvenile. It was no sound that could have ever been produced by Elise Saint. That alone tore Layla from the remnants of her dream state. Her eyes fluttered open, and Julius’s blurry form came into view above her. She was lying on the floor in the Clarice foyer. Julius stood at the decrepit old grand piano, pinning Celie against the instrument so hard, the notes crashed into one another like the sounds of shattering glass.
The younger reaper screamed, blood and tears streaming down her cheeks as Julius held her down and carved into her chest with a blade. A quick glance at the burns accompanying the slices in Celie’s flesh told Layla it was a Saint blade. The torture he inflicted on Celie was meant to be lasting. Layla tried to get up, wanting to push past their watching clan mates, but sitting up had her head swimming and the room spinning around her. Layla collapsed back to the floor and cursed. “Are you out of your mind?” she snarled.
Julius merely cracked a cruel smile down at her. “Nice of you to finally wake up.” He let go of Celie, who straightened up with Laure’shelp. The young reaper pressed trembling fingers to her chest, wheretraitorhad been carved into her flesh. Blood still dripped from the wound, and Celie whimpered as she regarded the new markings done to her. “You should be grateful it’s been done to her and not you. She had the nerve to defend your treasonous actions. It makes me wonder what truly transpires while I am not around to keep things running properly.”
Layla tried to ignore the agreeing whispers around her from their clan mates, but she felt their accusations like hot needles being dragged across her skin. Julius continued, gesturing to Celie. “This one has one more chance to abandon her rogue ways before I kick her out.”
Celie flinched, turning into Laure’s arms for comfort. Laure glared at Julius but made no move to counter his arguments.
Julius lifted himself from the piano and crossed his arms while he stared down at Layla.
Though still groggy, Layla could begin to make out the rest of the Hotel Clarice foyer around them and many of their clan mates gathered nearby to watch. She forced herself into a better sitting position, and her head throbbed. While the room swayed, Julius appeared before her twice. She planted her hand firmly on the floor to keep herself from toppling over. “What did you do to me?” Layla demanded through gritted teeth.
“Don’t worry, it will pass. When I was first turned, I could not help but continue my practices as a physician. I found myself to be the perfect specimen—an immortal creature that can endure andsurvive but still undergo changes necessary for observation… It appears your bite is worse than I anticipated, but my tainted blood did what it needed to do to keep you down.” Julius’s expression hardened as he lifted his hand, examining the teeth marks Layla had left in his flesh. He grimaced and fisted his fingers, then snapped at one of their watching clan mates. The reaper scurried off but was back rather quickly, carrying a small syringe. Julius snatched it from him and sank the needle into his bicep. He exhaled as his muscles loosened, his fist unclenching.
Layla’s breath shuddered out. “You poison yourself so much, you’re no longer able to heal as a reaper should.”
Julius tossed the syringe back at the waiting reaper. “Now, Layla, this is something you could have known had you chosen to pay attention to me when you let me into your clan. A true leader knows everything that occurs in their lair, with all their clan mates. I know you. How predictable you have become just by the things you avoid. Talking about the Saints is a sore subject for us all, but for you, it’s like a knife in a healing wound. It made me wonder, so I had to follow you out last night. And imagine my concern when I found you sneaking around the Saint property after your dramatic warnings against doing so. I think we would all like to know…” The older reaper paused, his eyes sweeping over the crowd of reapers before them. “Why.”
Layla let out another rough breath. “I told you I was turning myself in. You should have let me go. If you want the lair so badly—”
“I cannot help but feel like something is missing from your explanation,” Julius said.
All their clan mates shifted and whispered among one another. Layla felt their eyes on her like pins prodding her flesh. She could not bring herself to look back at them and find betrayal in their gazes. Not when all she had done the past two months had been to keep them safe. All her efforts—the starvation and the forced distance from the only things she cared about—could not have been for nothing.
Julius pressed on, ignoring her flinches. His nostrils flared, and his lip curled with disgust. “You reek of the Saint girl.”
She reeled back as several clan mates hissed their disapproval. Even Celie’s and Laure’s expressions darkened with disappointment. Layla pursed her lips but said nothing as Julius continued to stalk toward her.
“Is this how it will be now? You choosing them over us? Need I remind you what happened last time you brought your Saint into our home? Unless you have plans to hurt us again. With another false promise at retribution and being cured.” He gestured to a painting of Valeriya that had been hung on the wall over the Hotel Clarice’s grand staircase landing just weeks ago. Oil paint strokes done by Celie depicted their late leader as a severe woman with dark skin and eyes changed by immortal years and cruel poison.A gift, Celie had said when she presented the painting to the clan.To remind us of how far we’ve come and how far we still have to go.
