Page 8 of The Rising Dark
Lavinia shrugged.“Like Luce said, I have a soft spot for them.”
Pina narrowed her eyes.“Don’t play the fool with me, Vin.I know you, and I know what you’re like.This is different.It’s not like you to make a decision like this in the field without checking with the rest of us.”
“It was an impulse,” Lavinia agreed, but otherwise stayed silent.The less said, the better.Pina did know her—even before they had become Sword Sisters, they had grown up together, their families closely connected through marriages and alliances.Vesta might be the Sister with the best social insight, but it was Pina whotrulyknew Lavinia.
“Be careful,” Pina said after a moment, resting her hand on Vin’s shoulder.“I do not wish to see your loyal heart hurt.”
Lavinia’s hand covered Pina’s and squeezed it briefly.“I will.Don’t worry.”
Proserpina smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes.Together, they walked back up one of the staircases to reappear through a reinforced doorway near the foyer.“Are you hungry?”Pina asked.
“Starving.”
“Let’s eat.”They sat down for their meal at the high counter of the kitchen, tearing into a stack of burritos that had been left in the refrigerator by Mrs.Frost.The remainder of the night passed pleasantly, normally.Pina updated Lavinia on some of the repair work to the digital security system protecting the grounds, which had become necessary since some animals had chewed through a couple of cables.Lavinia finally changed out of her ruined shirt, sighing over the wastefulness of having to discard it after only a handful of wears, but knowing that if she tried to mend the large tear in it, her Sisters would laugh at her for her frugality.
As much as they all loved each other, they didn’t quite understand Lavinia’s strong desire for a simple life.She found comfort in the white of her walls, the bare room, with only a simple wooden bed and a plain desk and chair among the few belongings she allowed herself, in a way that she couldn’t quite explain.What she had, as little as it might seem within the confines of the opulence and abundance of the mansion’s resources, was truly hers.It was within her control.And that feeling was precious.
There was just one niggle in the back of her mind: the human.Even the routine pleasure of cleaning her knife in the armoury was disrupted by her.Lavinia’s hands went through the mechanical motions of removing the demon’s blood from the smooth silver surface while some of her Sisters sparred, their practice blades clashing against each other.Lavinia’s thoughts kept going back to Michelle, sleeping several floors above them.Thatwas not simple.
For the first time in over a century, she had acted on impulse, allowing herself to become part of a human’s life.While the demon had broken through Michelle’s ignorance of the supernatural, Lavinia had done nothing to try to rebuild that ignorance.Sometimes humans could be convinced that their memories had been mistaken, that it had all merely been a trick of the light, figments of imagination resulting from trauma.
Lavinia hadwantedto tell Michelle everything.Had taken one look at the nurse, her sweet concern for the scratch on Lavinia’s stomach.She had been softened by Michelle’s courage and had wanted to reveal herself, show herself for who she really was, despite the differences between them.
She had lost control.And she found that she had liked it.In the background, Pina whooped, having floored Quintia.Lavinia didn’t join them, instead choosing the solitude of her confused thoughts.
Chapter Five
Michelle awoke in a haze of fleeting dreams—nightmares, really.Long strings of images and impressions of being chased, of being hunted.Of shadows made of smoke reaching towards her, grasping her.When she opened her eyes, though, soft light streamed into the room from behind the curtains.She blinked for a couple of moments to reorient herself, taking in the thick, downy duvet and wood panelling on the walls.Memories of last night flooded in, and she got up with a renewed determination to no longer be a passive leaf blown about by the wind of circumstance.
Her phone, screen cracked and battery almost completely drained (she hadn’t bothered looking for a plug socket before crawling into bed last night), told her it was almost ten in the morning.Barefoot, she trod to the curtains and pulled them open, expecting to see some vista of forest and hills.She started back in surprise and dawning horror.There was glass, certainly, but behind it lay a sheet of dull steel, completely sealing the outside world from the room.Not even a hint of light penetrated through the minutest of seams.It was like looking into the darkness of a cave.The light that she had assumed was the morning sunlight was in fact created by a row of lights recessed within the wall, the bulbs providing a soft, even glow.
Well, that was concerning, wasn’t it?Suddenly, the opulence around her felt cloying, suffocating.What if she had made a tremendous mistake?What if all of this was just one really fancy prison cell?
She grabbed her favourite pair of jeans from her overnight bag, pulled the jumper that Iris had knitted for her last Christmas over her head, splashed some water in her face (the scratch was still looking angry and certainly made itself known), and tried the door of her room.The handle turned easily, the door opening without a sound, providing at least a minor sense of relief.She marched down the corridor, past several closed doors, and descended the magnificent staircase.The house was quiet, no sounds or voices carrying into the foyer.Faced with various doors again, she walked into the one she knew led to the kitchen, choosing familiarity over the unknown.
It was empty.Of people, at least—a breakfast that could easily feed a dozen was laid out on the counter.A quick glance revealed sliced fruits in glass bowls, various kinds of muffins placed in a pleasing pyramid shape, different types of cereals, fresh milk in old-fashioned glass bottles, and what smelled like freshly baked bread covered with a cheerily striped tea towel.
Michelle’s stomach growled, uncomfortably reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in a while.Feeling somewhat like a naughty schoolchild, Michelle took one of the muffins.She bit into it, briefly enjoying the zingy burst of lemon and the sweetness of honey, before she continued her quest.
She walked through an archway to an equally empty dining room, which featured a huge dark wooden table surrounded by twelve chairs.How many people actually lived here?Lavinia had mentioned sisters—there had been the woman who opened the door, and voices had carried out into the hallway.Was everyone else still sleeping?Emboldened, she explored further, stepping through an empty living room furnished with several large comfortable-looking sofas and, to Michelle’s relief, a large window overlooking what Michelle assumed was the back of the house.From the corners, the two wings protruded forwards, and a well-kept garden sheltered in the middle.The house wasn’t completely shut up, then, and being able to see the clouded sky made Michelle breathe a little more easily.She chewed on the last bit of the muffin and opened another door at random, stepping into a small study.
She flinched backwards as the desk chair swivelled around and revealed a tall, statuesque woman.She wore part of her shoulder-length dark brown hair in a topknot, her face all angles and planes.She had a masculine energy, and only her mouth brought a touch of softness to her features.Her penetrating black eyes assessed Michelle with intensity.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know someone was in here,” Michelle said, stepping backwards.“Sorry to disturb you.”
“Michelle,” the woman said.She had a rich voice, tinged with a slight accent that Michelle couldn’t place.“Please have a seat.”She gestured to the seat in front of the massive mahogany desk.Truly, every single room seemed as if it had been furnished by raiding an antique store.Michelle couldn’t help but look at the various oil portraits of stern-faced women in elaborate gowns that covered the walls.Michelle lowered herself into the seat, somehow feeling like a child called into the principal’s office.She still held the little paper wrapper that had encased the muffin.She resisted the urge to fidget.
The woman spoke first.“I am Lucretia.”Lucretia—was this the Luce that Lavinia and Zachary had mentioned yesterday?The person they thought would be displeased with Michelle’s presence?Michelle braced herself for whatever was coming next.
“I understand you were attacked by a demon last night.Lavinia was somewhat…hasty in her decision to bring you here, but I hope you will find our house comfortable.You are free to use the rooms on the ground floor, and of course your bedroom.”There was the echo of a warning in her voice.Don’t stray beyond where you’re allowed.
“When can I leave?”Michelle asked.Yesterday had been such a whirlwind.In the clear light of day, practical considerations started creeping in.What about work?When would she be able to go home?
“Hopefully, your visit will be brief.You are, of course, free to leave at any time, but Lavinia has made the argument that it would not be in your best interest to do so at the moment.”
Michelle narrowed her eyes at the verbal gymnastics.If she wasn’t welcome here, she’d rather know outright.“And what do you think?”
Lucretia sighed and leaned back, exuding an exhaustion that usually spoke of age, but she couldn’t be older than late thirties.There was only the faintest hint of crow’s feet around her eyes.“I trust my Sister’s judgement, even if it does not align with my own.”
