Chapter 18
Eighteen
Acouple days later, my hangover still lingers behind my eyes. I don’t know why people subject themselves to that. It was fun, but heaving my guts up and waking the next morning feeling like a mining crew was digging in my brain wasn’t worth it.
Still, I’m thankful I can check off getting drunk. Now I know for myself why I won’t be doing it again.
I didn’t leave my bedroom the entire day, but Kol came to check on me once, bringing me ibuprofen to help put me out of my misery. Today, I only saw him in the dining room at breakfast.
Everyone was quiet, seeming content to sit in silence and eat. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of Nero calling off his wedding or because the anniversary of their father’s death was still hanging over the brothers.
Usually, Anabelle would try to make conversation with me, but even she was quiet. I wonder if that’s because of how I acted when I asked her about the people in the masks. I’ll have to apologize to her. It’s not like I can expect her to forego her loyalty to her husband to fill me in on something that is obviously supposed to be a secret.
Basically, breakfast was uncomfortable, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I ate as quickly as I could and excused myself from the table.
I’m not sure if Kol’s avoiding me after what happened at the pond. I hope not, because ever since my headache subsided enough for me to think clearly, I’d been reliving our time together in my mind. And I want to do it again. That and more. But I’ll have to follow his lead for fear that if I push him too far too fast, he’ll strip me away entirely.
I spent the day outside because I overheard Marcel talking to Mrs. Potter about how a storm is due to sweep in tonight.
My paintbrush flicks over a canvas in an arch as I hear the first raindrops hit the glass roof of the conservatory. What starts as a light sprinkling quickly turns to the pounding of big raindrops on the glass, the wind picking up. Lightning streaks across the sky, lighting up the room for moments and casting shadows where there weren’t any before. Rolling thunder follows, shaking the glass in its iron casings.
My work area is bathed in light courtesy of the ring light Kol provided, but it’s hard not to feel as though something is lurking in the surrounding darkness, watching, waiting. A shiver runs down my spine as I look away from my lit-up canvas at the room beyond. I shrug off my unease and start to paint again, but the feeling of being watched causes the hairs on my neck to rise.
“Hello?” I call, but there’s no answer.
I stay still for a moment, keeping my breathing shallow and listening, but only the sound of the pelting rain on glass rings out.
“Don’t be such a scaredy cat,” I mumble to myself and bring the paintbrush to the canvas again.
A loud crack of thunder echoes through the room, and I yelp, dropping my paintbrush. My hand flies to my chest as my heartbeat races in the rapid-fire staccato of a machine gun, my breath strangled.
“Darn it.”
I bend to retrieve the brush when another crack lets loose from the sky, so loud that it sounds as if God is playing the cymbals right above the glass roof. When I startle, I jerk up and hit the edge of the easel.
“Ouch.” I bring my hand to the edge of my hairline and grimace.
A flash of lightning bathes the room in its ethereal glow before the room plunges into darkness. I still, waiting, waiting, waiting for the lights to come back on, remaining in darkness.
“Shoot.” Reaching out blindly, I find the small table with the rest of my brushes and paints on it and set down the brush.
How am I going to find my way back to my room in the dark? This manor is creepy enough in the middle of the day, but at night with zero light and being as big as it is, navigating it feels like an impossible task. I decide to sit tight for a few minutes and see if the lights come back on. If they don’t…
Lightning strikes again, and this time, I’m looking outside when it does. Everything out there feels threatening in the middle of the storm. The trunks of the trees look like soldiers at attention. The natural rise and fall of the lawn make me think of the undead pushing up from their graves, and a big, black creature streaks across the lawn.
There’s no way I’m spending the night here. I’ll have to somehow find my way back to my room, even if it means I have to wait for every lightning strike to see where I’m going and make only a little bit of progress at a time.
On the next lightning strike, I turn toward the door and mentally map out the way to get there. Then I walk slowly in the dark with my hands out in front of me. I miss the mark a few times and stumble into something, but when the lightning flashes again, I’m closer to the door.
As I walk, I think I must be close now, though there’s no real way to tell. Lightning flashes again, and I am indeed only mere feet from the door. A massive silhouette enters the doorway, and I scream, stumbling back.
A light shines in my eyes, blinding me, and a hand grips my arm. I scream louder, trying to free myself, until the sound of his voice cuts through my panic.
“It’s me.”
I still, panting hard. “Kol?”
“What the hell happened to you?” His voice booms through the dark room like a bass drum.
“The lights all went out, and I couldn’t see… I… I didn’t know it was you.”
He lets go of my arm, and with his other hand, he shifts the light on what I now realize is his phone and brings it to my face again. I squint.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?” I touch my head where I hit the corner of the easel, and it comes away wet. When I bring my hand down in front of me, Kol points the flashlight at my fingertips, where red liquid paints my pale skin. The ground feels as though it swells up underneath me, and I sway, feeling woozy.
“Shit,” Kol says as I fall into his arms.
Kol wraps me in his arms while he stomps through the house. Of course, he knows his way even in the dark. He’s lived here his entire life.
“I’m going to get you all bloody.” I’m still lightheaded, so I don’t lift my head, even though I want to so I don’t get his shirt bloody.
“That’s the least of your concerns.” Kol sounds pissed, so I decide to shut up until we get wherever he’s taking me.
He’s quiet as he walks through the manor. I’ve never seen it this dark before, even at night. It does nothing to quell the unease I had in the conservatory.
Eventually, another bolt of lightning reveals the stained-glass lion as we walk into the north wing. I can’t help but think of the tattooed lion on the arm that’s holding me right now.
Kol bypasses my room in favor of his own, and I secretly thrill at getting to glimpse his room for the first time, even if it’s pitch black. I can’t make much out as he weaves through the room toward the bath, and once we’re inside, he gently sets me on the counter.
“Stay put,” he snaps and pulls his phone from the pocket of his pants, pressing on the flashlight.
As he riffles through the vanity drawers, the flashlight is directed down at the drawers and casts a shadow on his face, highlighting and deepening the angle of his jaw, the strong line of his nose. He appears even more intimidating than normal.
When he finally finds what he’s looking for, he slaps it on the counter beside my hip. “Let me get a better look at this. Close your eyes.”
Light shines brightly behind my eyelids. Then there’s a whooshing sound, and it gets even brighter.
“The lights are back on, but maybe you shouldn’t open your eyes, so you don’t pass out.” Once again, he sounds annoyed by my reaction to the sight of my own blood.
“I think I’m okay now that I know what to expect,” I say in a small voice.
“You sure?”
I nod and slowly open my eyes. They meet Kol’s amber hues immediately. He stands in front of me with his arms open, hands inches from each of my arms in case I sway to the side again. I glance down and find that blood has dripped onto my shirt. I swallow hard, pushing back the nauseated feeling crawling up my throat.
“You good?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, I think so.”
He nods and unpacks the first aid supplies. “Head wounds bleed a lot. It probably looks worse than it is. I won’t know until I clean you up and take a look.”
“Okay.”
Once he arranges everything like a skilled surgeon, he walks over to the linen closet and pulls out a clean washcloth, then he wets it under the faucet.
“I’ll be gentle, but this might hurt.” He brings the washcloth to my face and wipes away blood.
I close my eyes to make it easier for him and wince when he gets closer to the cut at my hairline.
“I take it the sight of blood isn’t your thing?”
I thank him for making conversation in an effort to distract me even though his question comes out sounding forced. “I guess not, though I didn’t really know that until now.”
When I open my eyes, he gives me a questioning look.
“I didn’t have the usual childhood experiences of playing outside and skinning my knees and stuff.” I shrug, feeling inadequate somehow after admitting it. “It’s not like I’ve never scratched myself or anything, but I’ve never seen that much blood before.”
He nods and tosses the washcloth in the sink, then rips open a small package. “I need to disinfect the wound to make sure it doesn’t get infected. This will sting.” He holds the wipe up near my head and the strong scent of alcohol wafts up my nose. “Ready?”
He meets my gaze, and I nod. Gently, he brings the wipe to the cut on my head. I wince when it touches my open wound, and the stinging sensation feels like fire on my skin.
“Just another second. There, done.” He turns and tosses the wipe in the garbage. “Some ointment and a Band-Aid, and you should be good in a few days.”
“I don’t need stitches?”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s a small cut. It’s already clotting.” Kol applies the antiseptic cream, then puts a small Band-Aid on my forehead and steps back. “Done.”
“Thank you for fixing me up.”
Our gazes lock and hold, and he swallows hard, stepping closer. “You need to be more careful.”
I watch his lips move, and all I can think about is how I want them on me. “As long as the lights stay on, I should be good.”
I inch forward on the counter, close enough that our breaths mingle, imploring him with my eyes to kiss me. His breathing picks up, and his gaze diverts to my lips, and my belly tugs.
Disappointment rolls over me like a wave when Kol steps back and clears his throat. Here we go again.
“You probably want to get back to your room and change.” He motions to my shirt and the blood there.
“Right.” I hop down off the counter, putting on my best smile. “Thanks for coming to my aid and fixing me up.”
He nods and rubs the palm of his hand over his cropped hair.
The shower turns on before I’ve even left the room, and my disappointment doubles that he didn’t ask me to join him.