8. Dante
Chapter eight
Dante
O f course I followed Isabel down the stairs. She’d glanced back as though she sensed me stalking her, but I’d learned one thing about being a werewolf. We were good at stalking our prey. I might not be the blood thirsty killer I should be, but I had those killer instincts inside me now.
I placed my hand on the carved wooden door where Isabel had disappeared. What room was she in? She told me to not go inside the ballroom, but how was I to recognize which room that was unless I opened the doors? She should have been more specific. I flattened my ear against the timber, but not one sound emanated from inside. If Isabel was in the room, then she either had to be sitting quietly, or else she’d disappeared. Plausible considering what else I’d seen in the castle. My palm itched to open the door and find out, but I didn’t want to die, especially now I had access to all the answers I’d ever wanted about this new version of myself.
Decisions. Decisions.
My gaze dropped to the floor. Dammit, my feet had left footprints in the dust. She’d realize I’d followed her. Stood on the other side of the door like a creep too. Why didn’t I remember the dust first? I glanced around desperately trying to come up with a solution, but none arose to me. There were two choices, clean all the dust and the evidence of my stalking, and where would I even find cleaning supplies in a castle? Or I’d walk up and down the entire castle and leave tracks everywhere. That seemed the easiest option.
I snorted. The castle was vast. There was nothing easy about snooping around the entire cavernous place. I strode off before I talked myself out of anything, but not before kicking the dust in front of the door so there was no solid evidence I’d stopped at the door. Pathetic. I walked up and down the hallway disturbing as much dust as possible. A door creaked open on my left. Eerie. Yet I stepped inside.
A sumptuous sitting room decorated with fine furnishings, and floor rugs so intricate they were a piece of artwork. Speaking of art… I walked toward the lone painting hanging in the room. Watercolors swirled across the canvas in a well-known display of talent.
“I see you found the Monet,” Isabel said.
I spun with a start, not having heard her enter the room. Seemed she stalked me too .
“I grew tired of the laws and wandered downstairs, but you never said which room was the ballroom, so I can avoid it. Luckily, this door opened by itself.”
She appeared a tad less translucent than when she’d disappeared through those doors. What had happened to her behind them? She was as beautiful as ever. Every time I glanced at her, her beauty stunned me, and here she was talking to me in my hideous werewolf form.
“The ballroom is the first room on the right with the big double doors.”
“Good to know.” I’d been right not to open the door, but what was inside that I couldn’t see? That would kill me.
Her gaze sharpened like she recognized I was lying. I’d never been good at lying and I didn’t want to lie to her. I had a sense she wouldn’t take too kindly to lies and deceit. Plus, what would I gain from deceiving her when she was more knowledgeable than me?
“This painting is special.” I faced the artwork again, taking in the brush strokes across the canvas.
“It is.” Her lips tugged up on the right side in a lopsided smile. A smile I hadn’t seen from her before. It was almost whimsical.
On the canvas was a woman in white. The white dress flowed from her body as though lovingly painted into life. She was gorgeous. I’d always thought of landscape paintings associated with Monet, but he must also have painted people. The woman was standing on a grassy hill holding a white parasol in her dainty hands. I inched closer. She had dark, lustrous hair. Her face was blurred so I couldn’t make out the features, but…
“Is that you?”
She laughed delightedly and placed her hands on her chest. “I wondered if you’d notice.”
“How old are you? ”
She tapped her dainty fingers on her chest. “Old enough to be painted by Monet.”
“He was around in the eighteen hundreds, wasn’t he?” My memory recalled the details I’d read about in one of the many books I’d read. Any book I’d get my hands on I’d read no matter what the contents were.
“Late eighteen hundreds and early nineteen hundred.”
“So even if he painted you say early nineteen hundred that’d make you over a hundred years old.” My eyebrows rose as my eyes widened at the realization this woman had more knowledge than I’d grasp from reading books.
“Nice to see you can do mathematics.” Her hands fluttered back to her sides and toyed with the fabric of her skirts of the white gown. As translucent as she was, she touched herself.
“Imagine the wealth of knowledge you possess having lived so long. How things must have changed. I’d love to learn more.”
She tucked a strand of her dark, shiny hair behind her ear as she studied me. “You are a strange man.”
Again, with the ‘strange’ comment. It bothered me more coming from her than it ever did coming from the villagers in our hometown, but I didn’t understand why it mattered to me so much that she saw me as more than a strange man. A strange werewolf. I was both things, and it irked me that was all she saw in me.
“You’ve come to that conclusion many times, how about you move on?”
Her eyes sparkled. I like to think they were humorous and not malice, but I wasn’t sure yet. One minute she seemed kind to me, the next she might kill me.
She flounced over to the window, her white gown flowing behind her, her long hair floating around her waist. Once again, her steps didn’t leave any marks in the dust on the floor. Isabel placed a palm on the glass and stared outside. The way the moonbeams hit her skin in a delicate caress of pale white glowing light took my breath away. I’d never met a woman as beautiful as her. Neither had I met one as secretive. I suppose a vampire had to hide who they were. The first law I read in the book was do not reveal yourself to humans. It was safe to say I hadn’t, and the only time I had, well, I’d ended up killing him on accident.
“Tell me something,” she said. “Do you not fear for your life?”
“Every day ever since I was old enough to grasp I shouldn’t have a stomach so cramped with hunger that I barely moved.”
She turned around, hand dropping from the glass but not leaving a handprint behind, and asked, “Your parents starved you as a child?”
The moonlight brightened her beauty even more. I wanted to take the mask from her face and kiss her. I swiped my tongue over my lips. Where had that thought come from? Especially when thinking of my childhood.
“My parents left my brother and me to fend for ourselves.”
“How old were you?”
The pain of that time came rushing back to the forefront. I’d tried my best to bury it, but it was always there. Always a reminder our parents didn’t want us. Left alone. So alone. At least we had each other even though we’d been so young.
“Eight.” I swallowed, my throat threatening to close as those years rushed back. “Asher was five. We live in a small cottage deep in the woods.”
Her head titled to the side as though she was studying me in a new light. “The village didn’t help?”
“They didn’t realize we were alone.”
Although I’d sometimes wondered how at least one person in the village couldn’t have known we were alone. Someone, anyone, just one person to help us, but help never came.
“Where did your parents go?”
“I don’t know. They used to fight a lot. Dad would yell. Mom would throw things. He’d hit her. After one awful fight, Asher and I ran into the woods and hid. It was cold, almost winter. We huddled by the trunk of a tree trying to stay warm, staying quiet so Dad wouldn’t find us and yell at us, hit us, too. We were so icy cold when the sun rose, and we crept back to the cottage hoping to sneak in and warm ourselves by the fire. Except they were both gone. The fire was out. The cottage was cold. I lit it again as Asher shivered in front of the hearth. I dragged a blanket from my bed and wrapped it around us as we watched the flames spark to life. Once we were warm, we were hungry. Only then did we realize Mom wasn’t there cooking breakfast.”
“Do you think…” She brushed a lock of hair back from her face, pursed her lips, and met my gaze.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“You can ask me anything.”
I’d just spilled my worst night to her, the trauma of my childhood, and I didn’t even know why I’d felt comfortable doing so to a vampire who kept threatening to kill me. Yet she hadn’t. She’d let me protect my brother. This led me to my favorite place in the world, a library. Had helped me learn more about who I’d become as a werewolf.
“Very well. Do you think your father murdered your mother?”
Her words were like a sledgehammer to my gut. All the air exploded out of my lungs on a loud exhale.
“That bastard.” I seethed as anger, no rage, filled every ounce of my being. My fists curled and uncurled. Claws dug into my palms. I couldn’t control the beast while enraged. I stormed to the nearest wall and punched it with so much force my fist crumpled the wall to my elbow.
“You never considered it before?” Her dainty, incredulous voice whispered the question into the air as my lungs heaved.
“No.” I jerked my hand out of the wall, studying the splattering of blood across my knuckles. The rage had lessened with the release of physical power, but the gaping hole sent a new emotion rolling through me. Guilt. “Sorry about your wall.”
“The wall is the most unimportant thing in my situation, don’t you think?”
“Maybe not. If you’re stuck here, then you’d want it to stay nice and not become a wreck. Especially by someone like me.”
“Like you?” She gave me a sad smile. “I’m sorry about your parents. About what you must have endured as a child to make it to adulthood, but it says something about your character.”
“What might that be?” I wiped the drying blood from my knuckles, the wounds already sealed shut.
“You’re strong. Determined. Resourceful. I think I was right in believing you can help me out of this curse.”
“Some days I didn’t get us food. Some days I thought I would starve to death and leave Asher alone, leave him to starve to death too. It was the only thing that kept me alive. I needed to protect my brother.”
It was true. Everything in my life I’d endured to keep Asher alive.
She touched a hand daintily to her forehead. “I need fresh air.”
Outside sounded good to me so I followed her to the front door, which opened by itself before she approached it. The breeze caught the length of her gown and fluttered it around her legs. Every moment with her, I was more attracted to her. Once we were both outside, the door closed with a click that filled the silent night air. Isabel’s body reappeared like a regular person now she was no longer in the castle and the lace mask vanished. An interesting curse I longed to figure out.
“It’s so quiet here,” I said. I’d grown up quiet all my life, but this was different from being in a cottage in the woods. There were at least the sounds of nature when I was at home. Home that I might never get back to.
“Yes, like we’re in a bubble.”
“I can easily picture this castle in a snow globe.”
“I’m surprised you understand what one is,” she said, insulting me. It didn’t come out as an insult, but a simple observation that had slipped out of her pretty lips.
“I grew up poor and wild, but I read a lot.”
“Did you find much in the books?”
“I’ve only just begun my learning in your library. I can’t wait to get back and read more.” In her presence, I was torn between wanting to stay with her and wanting to learn more.
“You don’t have to follow me,” she said as if sensing the thoughts raging inside my mind.
“I want to explore my cage,” I said waving my hands around the area outside the castle. I’d seen little except the gate’s entrance to the castle’s front door. “How many acres does the castle sit on?”
“About twelve acres surround the castle inside the walls. Before the curse, many more surrounded it.”
She led the way around the back of the castle since I’d already seen the front which held a long driveway, an expanse of green grass, and the occasional tree dotting the landscape. As we walked around the back, the rush of water burbled, and a water fountain approached into view. Three tiers spread over my head. Moonlight made the water appear like liquid silver as it flowed over each tier into the pool beneath .
“Have you thrown a coin in it and made a wish?”
She laughed. “No.”
I shoved my hand in my pocket and fished out a copper coin, holding it up to my mouth I blew a warm breath and whispered my wish. With a flick of my thumb, I tossed the coin up in the air and watched it spin before landing in the water.
“What did you wish for?”
“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
“Silly belief anyway.” She huffed.
“I have another coin if you want to make a wish.” I held the shiny disk out in the palm of my clawed hand.
She shook her head. Was it the coin or my hand that offended her? I shoved it back into my pocket. If she couldn’t bear to touch me, then I didn’t blame her. I was a monster as a werewolf. If I was her, I wouldn’t want to touch me either.
“I think I’ll head back inside and read more.”
“Fine by me.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Now she appeared angry. What had I done?
“You’ll have to walk back to the front door, it’s the only one that opens… well, it’s the only one that opens for me.”
I glanced at the back of the castle. Nestled at the top of three brief steps was a wooden door. I made my way over to it and tried the doorknob. At first, I thought it might be locked, but the knob turned, and the door creaked open as though the hinges hadn’t been used for a long time and needed oil. Isabel’s soft gasp filled the night air and my ears. Would she gasp like that in bed?
When I was in this half-animal form, it produced my most basic desire. Food and sex. I’d always curbed them until now, but Isabel tempted me to throw my caution aside and climb on top of her like the beast I was. She was the reason I needed to get away from her.
The reason I shouldn’t stay outside with her .
For if I did, would my desire overcome me the way my rage had inside the castle?
I wouldn’t risk hurting her. Doing something I’d regret. If she needed me to find a way out of this curse, then the best place to look was inside her library. Yet leaving her alone felt like the wrong thing to do.