Chapter 23
Arax
Dazed and confused would be the best way to describe how I was feeling as I walked to my new room with Penelope and Drake.
I couldn’t believe I was back here, and in forty-eight hours, I was to attend the birthday party of a person I’d met forty-eight seconds prior.
Penelope was, in a word, glamorous, and Eleni was her mini-me, right down to the heterochromia they shared.
She didn’t resemble her father in the slightest. I thought of Cyrus.
It’d be interesting to see his reaction in regard to my return.
Brother and sister also looked nothing alike, but they were each beautiful in their own way.
Konstantine was dark-featured, tan, and tall, and Penelope was white-haired, fair, petite, and curvy—so, so curvy.
I was already envious of her. Her proportions were the pinnacle of perfection, whereas I had no shape left to my figure, and I hadn’t been working with much to start.
It wasn’t hard to see that I was not the only one worse for wear, however.
Konstantine’s ashen skin and prominent dark circles rivaled mine, making me wonder if the past year had been as unkind to him as it’d been to me.
Even the flesh under his fingernails was blue, as though a vampire had flown to his room in the dark of night and had drunk from his stores.
He was no less princely because of it, and seeing him again had reawakened the pull inside of me.
I was a moth flying too close to the flame, as Icarus had with the sun.
I dropped my backpack on the floor by the door and stood in the middle of the bedroom, not wanting to sully any surface with my soiled outfit.
It was much grander than the one from before.
Painted in a rich, textured palette of warm taupe and beige, the space was romantic and classic.
The bed was enormous, far too big for one person, with a headboard draped under a canopy of silks.
Recessed lighting dotted the square-coffered ceiling, and an elegant chandelier hung high in front of the floor-to-ceiling fireplace.
A sofa, upholstered in chenille, and a matching armchair were situated in front of the fireplace, and a curtained archway over curved french doors led to a semicircular balcony.
“We’ve sent for some clothes and necessities for you,” Penelope said sweetly, sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed with Eleni in her lap.
I was sure I’d turned red at hearing her say this, at being provided for once again, all because I had agreed, impulsively, to be an inconvenience to these people. “It was very gracious of you to invite me to stay,” I told her. “But really, I shouldn’t.”
“You’re coming to my party,” she said sternly and scrunched her nose at me. “But you can’t come looking like that.”
I sighed. Penelope was a third of his size but about as domineering as her brother. “Maybe I could borrow something?” I asked more than said. “I don’t want to put you out.”
She laughed at the notion. “That could work, Arax, if you weren’t eight and a half feet taller than me.”
“You need new clothes, Rox,” Drake said, interjecting, then addressed Penelope. “Please tell me you’ve picked her out something sexy and revealing. All I’ve ever seen her in are workout clothes and sweats… and now, she’s got a knife.”
I’d forgotten it was still strapped to my thigh and quietly detached it, letting it fall next to my backpack.
“It’s kind of hot.” Drake winked at me. “But what were you thinking you’d do with it? Fight off a rabid squirrel?”
They both cracked up at my expense, and I joined in. It really had been one of my more stupid ideas.
“Leave her alone, Drake, and take a hike,” Penelope said. “Vallon will be here any minute, and we want to get to know Arax before dinner, just us girls.”
The hike! I whirled around toward Drake. “My camping equipment!” I said in dismay, thinking of how for the second year in a row, I’d be donating them all to the mountains.
“Already on it,” he said proudly. “I had them picked up and stored until you’re ready to go.”
“You guys are too good to me,” I replied with a shake of my head. How he’d known where my camp was located and what stuff was mine was beyond me, but so many things about this place and its inhabitants were confounding and inexplicable.
“Nah,” he replied and held my shoulders. “It’s nothing.”
He kissed my cheek and grinned. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
He opened the door to leave but was obstructed by a troupe of girls who came in, carrying several trunks.
“Is this all for me!” I exclaimed.
“Everyone needs options,” Penelope said nonchalantly. “And you most of all. You appear to have no sense of fashion, Rox.”
I would have taken offense, but compared to her, dressed in heels and designer jeans that fit her hourglass figure like second skin, it was true.
She gave Drake the stink eye. “Weren’t you leaving?”
“That was before I knew there’d be a fashion show.” Drake smiled broadly, trying to peek in the trunks.
“Out!” Penelope ordered, handing Eleni to him. “And here, take your niece to her father.”
The little girl blew a loud raspberry on to her adoptive uncle’s cheek and waved good-bye to me.
“Remember, sexy and revealing,” Drake said, lowering his voice so only I could hear.
“Bye!” I shooed him away.
He pecked my cheek again and hurried out.
“Hmpf,” Penelope scoffed. “One day, all of this flirting is going to bite him in the ass.”
A knock at the door curtailed my response, and a young woman, who had to be Vallon, entered.
“Hey,” she said, her terracotta-colored eyes shining at me. “You must be Arax.”
“H-Hi,” I stammered at her, blubbering idiotically.
Vallon was the closest thing to a warrior woman I’d ever seen.
Like Penelope, she was compact, but her feminine form was tight, complemented by long athletic limbs like she’d never missed a workout in her life.
She was more than a head shorter than me, and in her tank top and shorts, the definition and tone of her muscles were impossible to miss.
She perched on the seat next to Penelope while I remained standing and silent, not knowing what to say to these two strangers.
It was Penelope who drove the conversation.
“Well, Rox, I know we’ve just met, but I’m not going to lie, Cy and Drake have told us a lot about you, though their opinions differ greatly.”
“Not surprising,” I said, noting with a tinge of disappointment that there was no mention of her brother’s sentiments.
“You’re Armenian?” Vallon asked.
“A quarter,” I replied, explaining my ethnic ratio to them. Growing up mixed had my childhood steeped in both cultures. I spoke the languages fluently and had been immersed in the traditions and history
“You know…” Penelope rubbed her chin. “Cyrus is Persian.”
“Yeah, I thought so.” I nodded. “But that hasn’t helped either of us gain any favor with the other.”
Penelope cackled loudly. “Yeah, I got that. Don’t worry about him. He’ll come around. He’s just not very social. He was adopted, you know.”
I didn’t know. “Oh? How did he come to live here?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s a long story,” Penelope said, dismissing my question. “Let’s talk more about you.”
“Drake said you teach music? What’s your instrument of choice?” Vallon asked.
“Guitar.”
Penelope stood, already bored, and started rummaging through the trunks, flitting in and out of the bathroom, her hands full with bottles and toiletries. She started on the clothes next, eyeing me like a detective observing a suspect.
“Wear this.” She nodded at the outfit laid out on the bed. “Can I trust you to pick out your own shoes and accessories?”
I really didn’t know what to say. I also hadn’t the slightest idea if I should be insulted or laugh because Penelope was dead serious.
“I think I can manage.”
Vallon, who had been listening to us with quiet amusement, quickly stood. “You are ridiculous, Pen. We should let Rox get settled. Dinner is in an hour on the deck. The gang will all be there.”
With that, they got up and went to the door.
“Your bathroom is set up. I’ll come grab you beforehand, and please, will you please fix your hair before dinner?” Penelope said as she and Vallon walked out, leaving me alone in the room and floating among a sea of clothes.
I discarded my sopping-wet clothes down the laundry chute and took a much-needed shower, hugging myself as the warm water took away the chill in my bones.
Afterward, I looked at my newly acquired jeans, shirts, blouses, and dresses, admiring each piece.
They were a lot more elegant and tailored than anything I’d ever owned.
How in the world did Penelope know my size and have the time to send people to fetch things for me?
Why even do so? I stopped what I was doing—hanging the clothes in the closet—and stared at my hands and down at my body.
I had made myself at home without a second thought.
It felt so natural to be back, and it was in this consciousness where my discomfort arose.
Two days, Arax. You’re here for two days, I thought. Don’t you start picking out new curtains for your room.
Going back to the bathroom, I remembered Drake’s critique of my look and frowned.
I brushed out my long hair, which was in desperate need of a trim, and pinned back the front.
Doing so made my face longer and thinner than it already was, the bags under my eyes more conspicuous and bulging.
My vanity aside, I pondered the long-term effects of my sleeplessness.
Making a mental note to get on top of my health and see a doctor as soon as I got home, I leaned in closely toward the mirror to apply some lip balm and saw that for the first time in a long while, a little bit of color had returned to my lips.
Vallon had mentioned that the gang usually ate dinner together, and although I didn’t know who “the gang” was exactly, I had a suspicion it included everyone I had met so far.
Penelope met me at my door.