Chapter 23 The Cleansing
THE CLEANSING
It happened when I was headed from Battle’s room, a place he’d left fifteen minutes ago because he had a text that sent him to his laptop in his study.
I was going down for cocktails.
I had a pep in my step (for obvious reasons—spending a late afternoon in bed with Battle talking deep shit and making love was the perfect afternoon activity, says me) and was nearing the bend of the hall of the south wing, when it happened.
Soot dashed from out of nowhere, tripping me.
I was about to right myself before Floofy was there, sending me careening in the other direction, tag teaming with Greystoke, who came from the other side to keep me going in that direction.
After that came Baby Blue, Snowball and Gingerface, and since I couldn’t keep my feet under me, there was nothing for it.
I tipped over, my hands hitting a door that wasn’t quite closed.
It flew open and I fell into the room on my hands and knees.
The cats scattered.
I shifted to a hip and waved out my wrists because both hurt like fuck from landing on them.
For a second, I was out of it, discombobulated from the fall.
Then I looked around the room I was in, one I hadn’t been in before, but I knew it was Chassie’s.
A study in pinks, not like mine—softer, paler, more feminine, but not girlie.
There were lots of flowers in vases, and her straw hat was on the bed.
She wasn’t there, thank goodness.
But I was freaking.
It was not an unknown occurrence to trip over a cat.
In fact, if you had cats, you knew it was commonplace. We’d had cats all through growing up. I’d been tripped countless times.
So yeah.
I knew it was commonplace.
As such, the night I tripped over Snowball and into Battle’s arms didn’t seem weird to me at the time.
Tripping over Baby Blue getting out of the shower wasn’t weird either. Cats had fascinations with bathrooms. And Baby Blue had an attachment to Battle. Not to mention, every female of any species (also says me) would have an attachment to Battle when he was naked.
Even if we shifted to canines, it stood to reason Bartholomew would get up to greet his daddy when he got home, so him tripping me at Burleigh House didn’t seem odd to me either.
But…
What just happened with all six cats tripping me at once?
No.
And because what just happened wasn’t your normal occurrence, maybe the Snowball and Bartholomew thing…
Perhaps those were something else.
“It’s like they wanted me in this room,” I mused to myself, and since the sting was out of my wrists, I pushed to my feet.
It felt weird being in Chassie’s room without her knowing I was there, I certainly wasn’t going to search it.
And maybe I was being funny.
So, some cats tripped me.
But six of them tripping me at once, like they were leading me to Chassie’s door?
I walked out, closing it like it was before, not fully, and still feeling way the hell creeped out.
I considered chatting with Prue about it.
But that was a problem because I was down with Battle thinking I was an unabashed loon, but I didn’t want anyone to think I was an actual lunatic.
I’d told her about what happened when I walked through the ballroom, and she hadn’t experienced it, but I knew that sounded cray-cray to her.
And of course, there was passing out the second I laid eyes on Battle.
But Prue did go to Ravenna and write fantasy books. Maybe she would think what just happened was, indeed, freaky, but meaningful, like I did.
And maybe, with her, we could ask Chassie if there was anything Harmony-and-Charlie-related in her room.
She might not understand it, so perhaps we could all have a look.
I thought this because I thought the phantom couple I saw walking out of the ballroom, the ones who I ran after, were Harmony and Charlie. I didn’t see their faces, just their backs. I had photos of my great-granddad, and I’d seen some of Harmony. It could have been them.
I mean, I wasn’t completely at one with cats being motivated by supernatural forces to guide you where you were supposed to be.
I was no UFO, conspiracy theory, reincarnation, etc. believer.
But I still thought there were things that were unexplained.
I didn’t believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone, for one.
And I saw what I saw in that ballroom.
That was not jetlag.
Nor was my reaction to seeing Battle. The bolt that hit me, the charge I got when he first touched me.
And I saw Ravenna throw my cards…twice.
Not to mention, she said Charlie’s letters were in the house.
Okay, so it was more than minorly loopy that I thought maybe the cats were pointing me in the direction of Chassie’s room to tell me Charlie’s letters were in there.
But everyone on board The Mary Celeste disappeared without a trace, and to this day, no one knew why. And hundreds of people danced for days, some of them dropping from exhaustion and even dying in Strasbourg during the Dancing Plague, and to this day, no one understood how that happened.
So I wasn’t closing my mind to anything.
This taking my thoughts, along with avoiding any cats at my feet, I was rounding the south landing of the stairs only to see Battle climbing the first grand sweep.
“Hey, take care of business?” I asked as he stopped to wait for me to get to him.
“A quick email I needed to read and respond to, and not on a phone keyboard.”
Yeah, those phone keyboards were no fun to type on.
“I hear you,” I said as I made it to him.
He turned and curled an arm around my shoulders, mine went around his waist, and we walked down the rest of the stairs.
We hit the plum parlor that had Tempie and Prue, both with drinks.
Battle deposited me in a chair and then locked eyes with me.
I understood his look.
“Amaretto sour,” I ordered.
He jutted his chin and went to the drinks cabinet.
Tempie opened her mouth to speak.
But Prue got there before her. “If you’re going to say something about Battie and Vivi and afternoon sex, I’m throwing a pillow at you.”
“I don’t need to, dear, you just did,” Tempie replied.
Prue shot her a pointy face.
It glanced off Tempie.
“Where’s Chassie?” Battle asked from the cabinet.
“On her way, I expect,” Tempie said.
“You can relax, Battie,” Prue told him. “I saw her come in from the gardens earlier.” She turned to me. “She didn’t look happy.”
Hmm.
I wasn’t sure hard to get was Christian’s best play.
“Didn’t look happy?” Tempie queried, the thread of worry in her voice going undisguised.
“Chassie has a thing for Christian,” Prue announced.
Tempie, for the first time since I met her, seemed thrown.
She blinked and asked, “She does?”
Prue took a sip of her old fashioned before she answered, “No one wears three-hundred-pound dresses to garden, Tempie.”
Tempie appeared stunned.
Miracles never cease.
“We’re not to get involved,” Battie commanded while walking our drinks toward me. After he gave me mine and folded in beside me, he looked at Prue. “Any of us. I’ll repeat, your stalking is done.”
“Fine by me,” she replied and looked at me. “The curator from the V and A is coming on Tuesday anyway. I’m going to be busy.”
“I cannot wait to hear what they have to say,” I enthused.
“Me either,” Prue agreed.
I took a sip of my drink and said to Battle. “This is yummy, honey. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, darling,” he murmured into his G&T.
“I forgot to inquire,” Tempie said. “Did you call your sister?”
I nodded. “Wednesday night.”
“All good on the home front?” Prue asked.
“Yes.” I smiled big. “And Lenny and Al are thinking of bringing the kids over to visit in June or July.”
“That would be so lovely for you!” Prue clapped. “And we’ll get to meet them.” She sat back in the sofa. “It’s been forever since we’ve had kids in the house.” Her brows shot down. “Wait, except for when I was a kid, I don’t know if we’ve ever had kids in the house.”
“I’d love for them to see the house,” I remarked.
“See?” Tempie asked.
“Yes. See. If you’re all groovy with me giving them a tour,” I answered.
Battle entered the conversation. “I believe that would be necessary for them to navigate it and find the parlor for drinks, Vivienne.”
“Oh, they won’t stay here,” I said breezily.
And got one set of surprised (Prue), one set of amused (Tempie) and one set of annoyed (Battle) eyes aimed at me.
“What?” I asked.
“We’re not having this discussion again,” Battle said.
And I got it.
“Battle, I don’t think they’ll be comfortable with staying here.”
“Then you best be very convincing, darling,” he purred.
“You and I are very new,” I pointed out. “That’s a lot to ask for all involved.”
“You and I are very solid,” he returned. “It would be insulting if they stayed elsewhere. You know we have more than enough space.”
Since I wasn’t going to bicker about this in front of his sisters, I said, “Okay, I can float the idea by them. But if they’re not into it, you have to be okay with them getting a BnB or something.”
“That would be the you-convincing-them part,” Battle retorted smoothly.
Changing my mind about bickering, I was about to open my mouth to say something when the vibe in the room tilted on its axis.
Battle felt it and we both looked between Tempie and Prue.
Prue was staring at the door with her mouth agape.
Tempie was following her sister’s gaze to the door, and when it got there, I didn’t think she could get paler than her naturally paler than pale, but she did when her gaze hit whatever was at the door.
Then her face got red, and she took her well-shod feet.
I looked over my shoulder at the door to see Chassie in her pretty pink sundress.
And with her was a brute of a man, probably six two, built like a pro wrestler, with a mess of very dark-red hair and an equal mess of a big russet beard. He had sky-blue eyes that practically shone out of his face. And I was glad I was sitting, or I would have swooned again.
Battle stood.
I chanced it and stood too.
I sensed Prue standing with us.
I saw Chassie’s fingers fiddling with the skirt on her dress and she was also carrying a massive bouquet of flowers in her other arm.