Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
T he portraits shimmered in the dim light. Their paint glistened like stars shining in the glow of the lantern.
Dinner had passed easily enough. This time with no outburst from Dorian and no Maaier in sight. Who now was devouring the book Maaier had given me to search for any information on him. She was scratching notes on parchment as her eyes darted across the page. The library was alive once again.
I had left my book on human anatomy on my couch. Instead, I headed up the stairs to read my strange book in private. As I made my way up the stairs. The door to my mother's room creaked. A gust of cold air filling out.
Against my better judgement, I crept toward it. Needing to know what lies beyond tonight. The sound of my name being called like a gentle kiss. My pulse thundered in my chest.
The anatomy book had said that the burns from a fire could be just as deadly if infected as the fire itself. Something that I was certain elena didn’t have to worry about.
The air was dense as I walked into the room. The dust undisturbed by my foot prints padding into the room. The smell of mildew and decay filled my nose. The damp mist swirled around me.
My name still whispered sweetly on the air.
Licking my lips, I said my aunt's name. A woman I had never met before. I just hoped it really wasn't the flaming woman after all.
“Such a strange child.” A sweet almost innocent voice cooed from behind me. I stilled. The cold air, immediately, biting into my exposed shoulders. Footsteps creaked as the woman moved around me. Coming up to a stop on my left side. A ghostly hand reaching out. Long delicate fingers running down my arm. The ghostly touch felt so real against my skin almost as if she was not a ghost at all.
“So pale. So pretty,” She whispered as she made her way around me. My hair twisting through her near translucent fingers. She admired it, deep eyes transfixed by the locks. Her own twisted back off her face. A long burn covering the majority of the right side. I dared to glance down. Noticing that the burn actually covered most of her body. Tight skin marred with scars and welts. Melted and fused together flesh on full display from her soft nightgown.
“So very Florian.” She grinned. Her smile was approving but her eyes shocked me. Flames danced before them.
“I was also a Florian before they got me,” She sneered. The flames in her eyes grew brighter.
“You still are.” I croaked, my voice hoarse. The smell of smoke thickened the air.
“I was a mark on the family name,” She hissed. The flames now snaked from the corners of her eyes to her hair. Dancing like streams of ribbon to the knot twisted at the back.
“You never were.” I pressed. The light of the lantern flickered.
“You know nothing. You were but a mere dream when I was taken.” Her anger radiated with her flames. The hair was now falling in hot waves around her. Each strand was alive in its own way.
“Taken in the night. Whisked away by a suitor. Someone who wanted me for once. Not Adele.” Her once beautiful face contorted. “So much like her, you are. Poor little Vespera. All alone in this big old dark manor. Scared of her own shadow.” She stepped forward. Our chests were almost touching. The stench of burning flesh hit my nose.
“You should have died. He came for you. Just like he did me. I waited so long for you to join me in this hell scape. But you didn’t.” Her teeth bared as she spoke. I willed myself to stay strong watching as the fiery eyes devoured me whole.
“You couldn’t dare to let go of this dark life. A life of grey. How utterly pathetic.” She twisted around me once more. Her hands reached for my right arm. Rough as she admired the skin. Smooth and unmarked. Her disgust was evident on her face. Her lip curled.
“He stole me and stole my colour. He stole yours too. But Death seemed to pity you.” Her flames died down. Sinking back into her eyes. I dared to breathe. She tracked the movement like a bloodhound.
“He never pitied me. Certain that Adele was his. That she was the one he desired. It should have been her. But instead, it is you.” She smiled softly. Turning my hand over in hers. Her fingers tracing the lines of my palm. “Such young beautiful skin. Such an old soul. You are not like the rest of us.”
My heart thudded in my ears. What was she on about? Was this woman mad?
“Am I not?” I managed, my voice hoarse from smoke.
“No.” She grinned wickedly before spinning behind me. Her hands rested on my shoulders before guiding me to the mirror. “You are more.”
I swallowed my fear. Looking at her in the mirror. Her reflection was mesmerising. A memory of who she was before death. Her skin, so alive and plump. Her smile was dazzling. She rested her head on my shoulder.
“I would have liked you, niece. We would have had so many fun adventures.” Her face fell slightly. Her bottom lip pouted.
“I like you,” I said, trying to keep her mood positive. Having seen what anger and distress made her.
“You do not know me,” She said sadly. “Death has only just granted you the ability to see me.” Her eyes fell to my hand reaching for hers under her chin.
“What did they do to you?” I dared to ask.
Anger crackled in her eyes before receding. My breath hitched. The flames pulsing alight to fade.
“He thought I was a witch.” She sighed. Her fingers moved to my hair as her chin dug into me. I paid it no mind.
“I was taken in a carriage in the dead of night. I don’t know how it crashed but I tried to run. Only for them to find me.” She rolled her lips together.
“What did they do to you?”
Her lip curled. The fire caught once more.
“They beat me. Abused my body in every way they could. Every one of them before disposing of me like flesh not soul. They burnt me alive. Laughed as I screamed in the flames.” Her voice grew deep. I relished in her anger. Feeling it warm the part of my soul that still feels like Death’s cold hand. What a horrible death.
“I am sorry that happened.”
“I’ve seen them since. They all met their match. Death may come for Florian’s but it is us he protects in the afterlife.” I met her eyes. Her smile was mischievous. This seventeen year old woman was still so full of life even now stuck in the manor. It was no wonder she was mad.
“Death lingers here even now,” She said softly as her hand drifted to my scar.
I gulped back my fear. What was she going to do? I spun back to face her. Her burnt skin was almost startling.
“Will you kill him for me?” She tilted her head. Resting it against mine.
“Who?”
“The man who took me.”
“Who was he?'' I urged. Her smile widened into a wicked grin. I didn’t hear the footsteps down the hall until it was too late. Victor walked into the room. Watching in silence as I stood rooted to the spot. Magdelena straightened. Giggling as she turned to Victor. My eyes widened. No. No. She couldn't touch him. Victor shuddered. The cold seeped into his skin as she neared.
“No,” I said finally. Magdelena turned. Her glare was like poison. She huffed before stalking back to the bed.
“Victor, you need to leave.”
“I came to check on you but Dorian said you were playing with things you have no right to.” I stifled an eye roll. Of course she knew what I was doing.
“I came to look for my mother’s locket.” I lied.
“Death has it.” Magdelena bubbled. Kicking her legs as she admired Victor. Her playful youth made me hold back a smile. Definitely mad.
“Can I help you search at all?” He offered. His worry sent a dagger through my heart.
I shook my head. “No. It is not in here.”
He frowned before offering his hand. I took it gently. Heading toward the door Magdelena giggled once more.
“Your biggest mistake will be choosing him. Death doesn’t like a Florian sworn to another.”
Her words cemented inside me. I stilled.
The story of Death and the painted woman coming to life in my mind. Grandmother’s tale of the curse matching the story almost in my mind.
I dropped Victor’s hand. Instead I ran to my room with him calling my name behind me.