CHAPTER TWO
The initiation was held in the gilded ballroom.
Floor-to-ceiling arched windows lined one of the walls, now darkened from nightfall.
Gold encrusted the ornate moldings around the room, along with the massive paintings depicting Kilthorne’s history.
The most recent scenes being the desired downfall of the vampires.
Vampires did not always exist here, but they had always existed in my life.
I was always drawn to one painting in particular—the portal that started it all.
I’d often lose myself within the swirling abyss, darker than the deepest depths of the ocean.
Tucked away in the Lost Woods, a portal had formed creating a bridge from the underworld to ours.
The endless dark was nestled between the trees, and around it like an enchanted frame, millions of crushed rubies glimmered.
Even within the painting it was so captivating, so alluring.
I had always wanted to see it in person.
Society members, my father at the center, waited before the portal with daggers drawn. I couldn’t stop the frown from forming.
Movement beside me caught my attention, and I accepted a glass of champagne from the silver tray with a smile. “Thank you, Benjamin.”
He bowed his head, blonde locks falling across his eyes. “Of course, Miss.”
I let my gaze fall across the ballroom, at the sea of colorful gowns, crisp suits, children darting through the crowd every now and then.
Elsie dressed me in a fitted crimson, silk gown.
The sleeves hung slightly off my shoulders and ended at my elbows, where a waterfall of chiffon trailed down past my waist. And, of course, I was not without my signature silver belt and dagger.
She styled my hair in cascading curls, one half pinned behind my ear and swooped back behind my shoulder, the other half billowed down past my breast in rolling waves.
I kept from the crowd, pressed up against the wall, an unsuccessful attempt to remain unseen.
But I caught every eye that slipped to me, every eye that lingered on my gray hair, on the dagger at my hip, every sidelong glance.
Countless needles skittered beneath my skin; I almost welcomed them to break through, flay me apart, just so I could get away from the lingering eyes.
I stiffened as the needles turned to ice. The blood drained from my face in a painful exit. Something lightly brushed my shoulder, trailing up to the nape of my neck. I stilled, holding my mask of indifference.
Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t react.
I took a slow breath in, a slow breath out, ignoring the icy hand wrapping around the back of my neck.
I swore I heard a distant laugh, a sinister sound.
I tried to think of anything but the demon at my side, who I could not see, who was certainly getting bolder.
Because as of last night, as I had felt their hand, as I did now, I now knew it was not simply a mischievous spirit of the underworld. It was far worse than that.
When the hauntings first started, it felt like a cautious hand reaching through the veil, not looking for anything particular, perhaps, just curious.
But now it felt like something else had come through, or maybe it was just showing its true colors.
Dark eyes found me, and they followed me everywhere I went.
Though the demon terrified me, I had never feared for my life. Until now.
“Charlotte!” Pari’s voice pulled me from my inner chaos. The hand disappeared. “You look absolutely ravishing. Thomas is in big trouble.” She winked. Her almond eyes were rimmed with kohl, the smoky line like a creeping shadow.
I forced a wide grin. “You as well.” She wore a stunning, sapphire gown with matching sapphires around her neck. “What about you? Has anyone caught your eye?”
For someone as skilled with a dagger as her and possessed a brute, warrior-like spirit, she was also a hopeless romantic who took any chance to don a beautiful gown. She smirked. “I’m saving my gaze for the initiations.” Her tone dripped with suggestion.
“Of course.” I smiled.
Like Pari, I also enjoyed any chance to wear a beautiful gown and all the lavish trappings of a ball, including the gluttonous displays of food. But as the years passed by, and the rumors continued to grow and spread, I could no longer disappear amongst the celebrations. The eyes were too heavy.
“Ah, my two favorite ladies.” Elsie’s son, James, sidled up to Pari snatching her champagne from her hand and downing it in one gulp.
Pari glared at him as he grinned back at her, flashing his charming smile that made it difficult to be mad at him for long.
“That Thomas better keep his hands where I can see them.”
I rolled my eyes. I grew up with him since Elsie lived in the manor.
He looked so much like her. They shared the same vibrant green eyes.
Except, according to her, he got his dirty blonde hair and his devilish charm from his father, who hadn’t stuck around to see his birth.
He was like an older brother to me, and he certainly picked on me like one too.
Though if he heard anyone else pick on me, he didn’t hesitate to intervene.
He got in a lot of fights because of me, but my father saw it as an opportunity and had him join the Society as soon as he was old enough.
He was the only Society member I could stand.
“Oh please, James, women don’t need chaperones anymore.” She swiped her empty glass back from him. Pari and I had been friends since birth, so she grew up with him too, which meant he was like a brother to her as well.
“Of course.” He raised his hands in surrender. “But there’s no harm in a little backup if you need it. Just say the word, gray, and I’ll lead him to some fresh air, if you know what I mean.”
My face scrunched up. “I don’t think that I do.”
“Miss Windsor.” My head snapped towards his voice.
“Sir Woolworth.” My face ached with the effort to keep my smile.
Thomas stood tall before me, his bronzed hair groomed neatly, brushed back and curling slightly down his neck.
He was a very handsome man, with sculpted cheekbones and a chiseled jaw.
But his forest green eyes were distant and so was his demeanor.
None of that mattered. I had accepted his call because he didn’t express interest in violence.
And he was likely my last chance at a normal life.
“A dance?” He held out his hand. I placed my fingers in his warm palm.
I gave Pari and James one last glance, the latter who had his eyes firmly fixed to Thomas’ hand in mine.
He looked back up to me with a nod of approval.
I shook my head trying to mask my smile.
Though my amusement quickly died at the shadow that stepped out from behind them, absorbing into the light.
I kept my expression placid. It was the only expression I could manage with the numbness that spread through my body. Thomas’ face was equally as placid, though much about him was always, well, dull. But that was what I liked about him. It was far better than the alternative.
I had always had a consistent line of suitors since I was a child, but it was certainly not because of me.
I was peculiar looking, and no one let me forget it.
With my gray hair and eyes, I was without color, lackluster.
I knew I was only wanted because of my father’s status.
Every family of Kilthorne wanted a part of the Society, of the man who protected us from what plagued our town.
My father had discovered that black tourmaline, if plunged through their heart, would kill the vampires.
It was the only way to kill them, except for decapitation, but that was far more difficult and messier.
I cringed at the thought. For his discovery and creation of the Society that protected us, everyone looked up to him as some sort of god.
But with each person that tried to impress me, my disdain only grew.
When I was eight, I met a boy that my mother was eager to introduce me to.
His father owned a fleet of ships. In other words, he was wealthy.
That was all that mattered, apparently. I was playing with my dolls, and he had grabbed a stick and impaled my doll through the chest. His sick grin still haunted my nightmares.
“This is how I’ll protect you from the demons,” he had said.
I begged my mother to never see him again.
He was now one of the leaders within the Society.
My father saw my aversion to violence. He had his ways of convincing me it was necessary.
By the time I was ten, I saw my first sacrifice.
That was what my father called it, a sacrifice to Brennus, a plea to remove the demons from our world.
He thought it was time I saw the monster he had instilled within me to fear.
He had said they preyed most on young girls because we were most vulnerable, easily manipulated.
But when I looked into the demon’s face, as he was bound to the altar, no more than eighteen, I saw fear. Father said he was just manipulating me, but I was not so sure.
It did not feel right.
Thomas was safe in that he had no interest in the violence. He wouldn’t want to get a speck of blood on him. He was always so neat.
I didn’t really have the luxury of being picky anymore. Suitors could once look past my odd appearance, but once the hauntings started, it was one too many peculiarities. And no one wanted to catch a demon from the gray girl.
We danced in silence for so long, I started to feel itchy.
“Are you enjoying the ball?” I asked, desperate for him to give me anything.
“Mm.” He nodded once, not even meeting my eye.
I pressed my lips together.
“Are you excited for Samhain?” I tried again.
He frowned. “I don’t have time for silly celebrations like that.” He met my eyes as if he wanted to ingrain his meaning into my brain.
Well, that’s quite bland.