Chapter 9 Eryx
Eryx
The fire crackles in front of me, throwing shadows across the dark room.
The woman exhales another shaky breath but doesn’t answer.
“Is it so terrifying coming to my house? Or is it the guests that brought you in here?”
“I’m sorry.”
Her voice is frantic.
You scared her. We’re supposed to be finding the woman, and you’re already terrifying the guests. I can’t leave anything to you.
Good grief. Can I do nothing right?
No, Nightmare answers.
You weren’t supposed to hear that.
The sounds of a rustling skirt and the doorknob turning comes from behind me.
“No,” I say, flicking my head over my shoulder. “You don’t have to leave. I’ll play nice.”
“Nice? As nice as the cold stone in your manor?”
She’s got teeth, Nightmare says giddily. Turn around. See what she looks like! I have to know. Is it her?
The voice. There is something familiar about it. But I’m not turning.
Kings don’t turn.
Nor do they bow.
I gesture to the walls. “The stone might be cold, but the fire’s warm.”
“It’s not the fire I’m worried about.”
A laugh slips from my mouth. “So it’s me.”
Her skirt rustles again, and when she speaks, her voice is closer, the sound like an intimate caress. “Shouldn’t you be out at the ball? You invited us here so you could…what? Hang out in your library?”
“Study.”
“Same thing.”
Turn around! I’m begging you. I’ve never begged for anything.
Several things come to mind. Blood. Vengeance. Retribution.
Yes, yes, all those things. But not like this. I’ve got to know if it’s her.
“So you hate my stone, you mislabel my study and yet you’re still here.”
“I’d like to see the face of the man who invited my entire town to this ball.”
“And what if I say no?”
“You won’t.” Her skirts rustle again, and now she’s right behind me, her voice a purr. “You want all of us to know who you are. But my question is why? Why bring us here? The barrier exists to keep us out.”
“And us in,” I reply.
“So my question is—why.” She steps up beside me, and the fire brightens her face, her dress. I refuse to look, though flashes of pink fill the edge of my vision. “To destroy us? To give us nightmares? To feed off our lifeblood?”
“You’d be the first, you know, since you’re here.”
Look at her!
Very slowly—she turns.
So do I.
And recognition snaps my spine straight.
It’s her! Finally! I knew throwing a ball was a good idea.
My breath catches. She’s more beautiful than I remember. My eyes linger on her face, her collarbone, down her dress and back up.
She’s gone pale. And then she takes a very deliberate step back and says, “Where are the roses?”
“Back where we made them.”
Mostly.
One corner of her mouth flickers.
My God! You are ruining this!!!!!
She eyes me closely. “You never told me why you’re in here instead of out there.”
We were waiting for you—tell her that. Do it!
“I don’t like crowded rooms.”
Nooooooo! Okay, we can save this. Pivot. Ask her about her hair.
She stifles a laugh. “Then you’ve invited too many people to this party.”
“All I needed was one.”
A silence ignites between us that’s as loud as the crackling fire.
A rosy blush—almost as deafening as the quiet—creeps up her pale neck. Her gaze flits to mine, then drops.
But only for a moment, because next thing I know, she lifts her chin, looks me dead on and replies, “Seems like a lot of trouble for one person.”
“It’s better than the alternative.”
“And that is?”
A muscle in my cheek twitches, giving too much of me away. “Tell me about your curse.”
Her jaw works, and shadows flicker across her face. “It didn’t start with me.”
“I guessed as much.”
Why are you talking about her curse when you should be handing her flowers? Asking if you can court her?
This isn’t the eighteenth century, I remind it.
“And did you cast your curse?” she asks, throwing the conversation back on me.
No, because you walked right into it, and now you’re all we can think about.
She’s all you can think about.
Nightmare goes quiet.
“And have you freed yourself from your curse?”
“You already know the answer to that,” she tells me.
“Do I?”
She has the good graces to roll her eyes. “You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t already know.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I’m not. I just assumed.”
“Correctly,” I assure her.
Her gaze dances over my features then, brushing my eyes, my nose, my jaw, and down to my feet and back up. I feel her gaze like a touch as it moves over my body, eventually landing back at my eyes.
There’s another beat of silence, and I wait to see what she’ll do next. Will she escape my study and rush back to the ball? Or will she stay.
Please stay, Nightmare whispers.
“I’ll never be rid of it,” she confesses.
“Oh, it’s one of those.”
She cocks her head in curiosity. “One of those? Do you have one as well?”
My shoulders tighten, and I wave a hand toward the fire. “You must be cold standing in the shadows.”
“You must be sweating standing so close to the fire.”
My lips tip into a smile, and when they do, I see her go very still, every part of her except for the flutter of her pulse in her neck.
Ooooh, you haven’t ruined things after all. Ask her to dance! Make a grand entrance!
“Why don’t you come over here?” I suggest.
“Why don’t you come here?”
“Are you always so stubborn?”
“Only with men I don’t trust.”
“And yet you trusted me enough on our first meeting to touch my hand.”
“Now I know better.”
A roaring laugh escapes my throat. “You know better now? Tell me what you know.”
She takes a step forward and tips her head back, watching me closely. “That you invited us all here for a reason. Is it to cast your curse more effectively?”
I extend my hand. “Why don’t you find out?”
She eyes my hand like it’s a venomous snake. Then slowly, she reaches for me, her palm about to slip over mine—
Yes, touch her! Kiss her! Tell her she’s the one!
The study door swings open. Light floods into the room, hitting the both of us.
A woman with blonde hair takes one look at us and says, “Chelsea! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Get your heinie back into that ballroom before your grandmother dies a second time!”
We know her name! Write it in blood and cast a spell so that she falls in love with us.
Chelsea’s gaze flicks to me, and she retreats a step, taking with her warmth that I didn’t realize she’d created until it was gone.
“It seems one of us must get back to the ball,” she says, her eyes sparkling.
Is she teasing us? She’s teasing us! She likes us!
With that, she turns on her heel and walks out. As she slips through the doorway, I spot a sparkly pink sneaker on her foot.
Nightmare sighs. Do you think she’ll lose her shoe and we’ll search Castleview to find her and give it back? If we lose her tonight, all we’ll have is vengeance on our mind.
Just the thought of Nightmare returning to his old self makes a headache bloom behind my eye.
I have a better idea, I tell it.
And what’s that?
Let’s join our ball.