13. Ash
13
Ash
T he burn of another glass of whiskey feels better than the agony of waiting. Azra summoned me to the house minutes ago. They should be here by now. Just as I was pouring another too-full glass, shouting caught my attention outside.
Brielle stops mid-sentence when I walk out of the front doors of the manor.
“You called him to watch her! No, absolutely not. That is not happening.” Brielle shouts as Torin bumps my shoulder and walks into the house. It isn’t until Azra moves more toward Brielle that my eyes meet the hypnotizing green ones behind him. Worry and fear cloud over them like a gloomy day.
“We have no choice, Brielle. If something is connected to her that caused the vision, they will have no problem taking her. We aren’t sure exactly why she had this in the first place. I need to get back to conduct the group that is being sent to help us. We can’t underestimate this and go in unprepared. You can stay here with her.”
“No, I’m not going to stay here and do nothing while Tina’s gets attacked. I can make them close early, I can?—”
“And if you do that, you risk them finding another way to get to her parents, and she might not have a warning next time.”
“Just stop!” Andrea erupts, her fists clutching at her sides. “I trust Azra, and I trust you, Brielle. If the best place for me to stay is here so that my family is safe, then so be it. I am a grown woman who can make her own decisions and I am choosing to stay.” Brielle’s eyes soften as the words from Andrea process.
“Are you sure?” Brielle is so gentle with her. Like she is made of glass. The anger and confidence in Andrea’s stance say otherwise.
“Yes, Celeste is here as well. You, Azra, and Torin are needed to protect my family. I will be fine while y’all are gone. It’s only one day.” Andrea forces a smile and rubs her friend’s arm through her leather jacket.
“I promise to defend your family with my life, Andrea.” Azra nods to her, wrapping his arm around Brielle.
“I know, Azra.” The tears swell in Andrea’s eyes as Brielle steps forward and pulls her into a hug. “Go,” she whispers to her friend as they pull apart. Brielle nods, a line of tears in her own eyes.
Before they vanish, my brother’s love cuts me a bone-chilling stare, one I haven’t seen anyone make toward me in a long, long time. Simply because such fearless creatures with the ability to back that stare up have gone extinct centuries upon centuries ago.
My wings tighten behind me as those brown eyes linger until they are gone. Andrea is staring at the cobblestone where my brother and Brielle stood moments ago. A singular tear running down her flushed cheek.
My fingers burn, aching to reach out and wipe that tear away, but I can’t. I can’t risk losing control, I can’t risk the stain her touch will leave on my body.
“Little bird?—”
“What did you mean that night in the woods? When you mentioned my dreams.” Her eyes nearly knock me back when they cut to me. I search them for any indication she might actually be what I think she is, but there is no way to tell without me touching her. When I don’t answer her, she stomps toward me. Her strawberry scent wraps around me and hits me in the face when she halts at my side. “Just forget it. You’re only here to taunt me, right? I’m sure there is some creature with her legs open for you. I’m fine here with Celeste.” She huffs when I don’t answer her again. My jaw slackens at her cruel words to me. They are true but still cruel in their own right.
So I stand there, silent, watching her storm into the manor and slamming the door behind her.
It’s been hours that Andrea has been in the libraries searching for books on psychics. I only know that’s what she’s doing because, of course, Cyprian went up there to help her before she politely declined. I’m sitting in the living area that is tucked away. The door to enter under the stairs blends into the wall.
We rarely get to spend time in here. The kitchen is the most frequented room in this manor. I’m happy to use this room as a get away from the chaos that goes on under this roof sometimes. That same reason is why I have my own house in the village. I like my privacy.
The beautifully stone carved hearth that resides in here is my favorite in the entire house. Grand bookcases flank both sides of it and an exquisite antique mirror hung directly above the mantle. The emerald green velvet couches are almost hard to look at because of what they remind me of. I also think I subconsciously picked this room today for that exact reason.
I’m sure there is some creature with her legs open for you.
I recall the venomous words she spoke to me, them being more of a shock than offensive. I know what I am, I know I’m not innocent, but she is. The perfect, meek, polite Andrea I have been watching for weeks at this point.
A smirk pulls my lips and pressure builds against the zipper of my pants. Draining the rest of the amber liquid in my glass, I shatter it in my hand and toss the shards into the roaring fireplace before me. The flame engulfed the remaining alcohol on the remnants of my cup. I watch as the flames roar just as my chest does when she is near.
This room being in the heart of the house makes it perfect to carry a melody. The reason my ancient grand piano stays in here. The eighteenth century rugs help with the echo as well. I’ve ripped hands off humans and beings alike for touching this piano, so I decided it was better left tucked away from common areas.
Sitting on the wooden bench I haven’t warmed in at least a decade, my fingers brush over the ivory keys, anticipating the smooth feel before I press down. I could never bring myself to play much after… I quickly shut those memories out.
The first melody is almost too loud for my ears before they adjust. The familiar sounds pour out of my chest, through my fingers, and into the surrounding air.
I don’t know how long I had been playing until a faint breath caught my attention. The silence ringing in my ears where that sweet song once was. I turn to find big green eyes bouncing between me and the instrument. Her curls are pinned back as if she needed them out of her way to focus on her research.
“Why’d you stop?” Her soft voice is as sweet as the symphonies I was just playing.
“I don’t like being watched.” My molars clench together. I hate being watched, it’s why I do all the watching. Why the shadows found me and never left. Her teeth sink into her lower lip as she thinks of something to say. That one movement could be my undoing so I grip the bench beneath me, the wood creaking under the pressure.
“I followed the music here, I didn’t know this was a room, but I saw the candlelight in the crack of the door.” Andrea throws her thumb over her shoulder then continues fiddling her fingers together.
Her low-cut white shirt is bright against her beautiful caramel skin. My eyes follow the curve from her breast, that would fit so well in my hand, to her generous hips. The sweatpants she’s wearing are baggy but not even a potato sack could hide her amazing shape. Clearing her throat snaps me out of the wicked thoughts that were brewing in my rotten mind.
“Have you heard anything yet?” Her brows knit close.
“No, I will be sure to let you know once I do.” I turn from her, hoping she takes that as a signal to leave me be. The room is silent for a few moments. I would have thought she left if it wasn’t for her intoxicating scent wrapping itself around my senses and blissfully suffocating me.
A small sniffle breaks the quietness of the room and my eyes quickly find hers. My chest tightens at the glossy green eyes that are the exact shade of the velvet couch she is now sitting on.
“I’m scared.” Her shaky whisper isn’t what almost brings me to my knees, it’s what she said. Her small confession to me. Coming to me as if I am someone she trusts, like I deserve her trust.
I don’t.
Standing from the piano bench, I pour two glasses of amber liquid from the decanter. Trying not to stand too close, I extend the second glass to Andrea and settle into the armed chair beside the couch. Not daring to sit on the same piece of furniture as her.
“I will be sure to let you know when I hear word from Azra. Your parents are in good hands.” Andrea’s eyes close as she begins gulping the liquid. Watching her throat bob and her eyes squeeze at the burn, nearly unravels me. I shift in the chair to accommodate to rush of blood pulsing between my legs and look away, downing my glass as well.
She gently places her glass on the table before us.
“I know,” her wary tone lets me know that isn’t exactly what she was talking about. Andrea’s head is angled down, her shoulders slumped like she would be utterly exhausted. Her eyes snap to mine through her thick dark lashes. “But you know that’s not what I’m talking about.” I keep silent, watching her eyes turn with questions she isn’t ready for answers to yet.
She continues, “I have always felt different and I can’t pinpoint why. I have amazing parents. I grew up in a healthy loving environment but I have always felt as if I never fit right in my body. It’s one of the main reasons I decided to pursue fashion. I can alter clothes and fabrics to fit the way I want, the way I could never do to the skin that feels too tight around my bones. The feeling is more intense here and I have no one to talk to about it. I don’t want to worry Brielle… and I know you know something.” Those twinkling green eyes snap to mine, pain and vulnerability are the only things shining in them. My lips part to comfort her but she shakes her head and stands. “I’m sorry for opening up like this to you. I’m sure you don’t care.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” My voice comes out harsher than I would have liked. I push off from the armed chair across from her. I need another drink if I have to stay in this room with her any longer while she asks these questions.
“Why? Why do you hate me?” She walks closer to me, I step back after downing the liquid I poured and she halts. “Just tell me what I’ve done wrong, if I have offended you in some way, I’m sorry. I need to know I’m not crazy.” Her sculpted brows pinch. The sight has heat rushing through my body and my molars clenching so tight they might crack. Before I can stop myself, I am close enough for her rapid breathing to brush my face.
I bare my teeth. “Do. Not. Apologize to me.” Her head leans back at my dark tone, her lips parting with a sharp gasp. I can’t stand her thinking she has done something to me. I can’t stand her thinking I deserve her apology. Her throat bobs as it searches for the words she lost at the tip of her tongue.
Stepping away, just so I could get her scent out of my nostrils, I pour another glass until it’s nearly overflowing and chug it. I could drink this whole decanter and detect only the slightest warmth in my veins. Though, I will try anything and everything to take the edge off when she’s around.
I can sense her stare burning into my wings, I tighten them. “Did you find anything in your research?” My voice is strained but I need to change this conversation. I can’t run like I have been. I made a promise to stay at the house until Azra and Brielle returned.
“No. I wouldn’t be here, dealing with you, if I had.” Her answer is flat, I turn to her arms crossed against her chest, pushing up her perfect tits.
Heavens, save me.
“Leave. I have nothing for you.” My fists clench tight by my sides to keep from reaching out and running my fingers along her smooth chest. To run my hands along her perfect curves, to slide my fingers inside of her until she forgets every negative thought she has ever had of herself.
“Why can’t you stand to be around me?” She steps closer, nearly touching me.
“Please,” I whisper. I haven’t said that word in decades but I can’t take it. I can’t be another moment in her presence. If I didn’t give Azra my word to watch over her, I would be on the other side of the world right now. Sadly, that still wouldn’t be far enough to not suffer from her warmth.
Her hand lifts, reaching up and resting on my chest over my heart. I try to hide my flinch as her skin scorches mine underneath my shirt. She hesitates, her emerald eyes flicking to mine. My molars threaten to shatter as she puts more pressure on my chest and a small gasp has her lips separating.
“You feel that too?” she whispers, her eyes are wide and bright. The fire dances in her pupils just like the flame she set off in me. I am stuck for a moment, unable to even think past her hypnotizing stare.
I’m squeezing my fists painfully tight, my knuckles feel as if they will rip right through my tattooed skin. The room darkens with my shadows writhing around us but she doesn’t look away, doesn’t remove her hand from the left side of my chest. The side I wish I could cover with tattoos but just can’t.
“If you need me, just say my name.” My words are strained before my shadows wrap around me and the grass in the garden crunches underneath my shoes. The cool breeze hits me like a freight train where I stand now outside. I can see through the window of the room I was just in. Andrea’s head swivels around, searching for me. Her hand still in the air where it was on my chest.
I will have to watch her from outside the house. I should have known I wouldn’t have been able to handle being so close. Even in the vast area of our family home, she is still too close. There is nowhere in the Heavens and Hells that is far enough from her.