70. Petra
PETRA
As I’m getting ready to retire for the night, one of our servants intercepts me on the staircase.
“This came for you, Miss.”
I frown as I take in the nondescript brown package. “Who is it from?”
“It is from the Snowden House, Miss,” she replies.
“But . . . I’m not allowed to receive anything.”
“The Master has specifically said that if anything comes from the Snowden House, you may receive it.”
Of course, Father would deign that to be acceptable; he is still planning to sell me to that odious man, after all.
Pursing my lip, I stare at the package. On the one hand, I don’t want anything to do with Snowden, but on the other . . . I am far too curious to refuse it.
“Thank you.”
With the small package in my hand, I go to my room, oddly curious to see what hides inside. If it’s something lewd or inappropriate, then that’s all the more reason to encourage Sin to dispatch him in a painful way.
Closing the door behind me, I go to my desk and light up my candle. I tear through the packaging, and I’m surprised to see . . . a Bible?
I frown. That is not something Snowden would send me. Not only is he the furthest thing from a man of God, but I doubt the man has ever held a Bible in his hands without burning.
I almost dismiss it as a bad joke, but for some reason, I end up rifling through the pages of the book.
There is a natural bend to the spine, and as I reach the midway of the book, I find a small piece of paper inside.
Petra,
You said you could help me leave my house. Does your offer still stand? I fear my father has caught wind of my relationship with Sinclair, and I don’t know what he’s capable of. I’m scared for myself, for my child, and for my beloved Sinclair.
If you meant what you said, I can meet you tomorrow night outside the south gates of my house.
Thank you.
Leah
I stare at the note for moments on end. For Leah to have done this, to reach out to me for help when she was so hesitant before, speaks volumes. She must truly think she has no other recourse, and knowing what I do about Snowden, I’m terrified for her.
I wait until nightfall, when the entire house has gone to sleep, before opening my window. One moment I’m alone, the next, Sin is behind me.
“You startled me,” I gasp aloud.
He smiles that beguiling smile of his and opens his arms for me to nestle within his embrace.
“I thought night would not come soon enough. I missed you, sweet Petra.”
“I missed you, too.” I sigh dreamily against him, letting his warmth seep through me. We stay like that for what feels like an eternity, neither of us wanting to take the first step and break apart.
With great difficulty, I pull back.
“We need to talk.”
His features immediately contort with worry.
I show him the note from Leah, and his lips flatten into a thin line.
“I will speak with my mentor. We will go to her house tomorrow night.”
“I’m coming with you,” I declare.
He raises a brow at me, and I can tell he’s ready to challenge me.
“She asked me to help. I must be there. That way, she will be more at ease.”
He still doesn’t speak, merely staring me down as if that would make me reconsider.
“I am coming, Sin.”
He exhales roughly. “All right.”
I regale him with a warm smile.
“But that is tomorrow, not tonight. Come here, sweet thing, let me feel you.”
Before he can mention it, I shrug my clothes off and move closer to him. His own clothes vanish at some point, and we end up together on the bed between the tangled sheets.
It’s close to midnight when Sin comes to get me from my home.
“Close your eyes,” he whispers as he envelops me in his shadows.
Dizziness overtakes me as everything around me spins. When I next open my eyes, we’re at the gates of the Snowden estate.
There is another man there, one I have not seen before. It’s dark out, so I cannot entirely make out his features save for the thickly rimmed glasses he’s wearing.
“Petra, meet my mentor.”
“You’re Arnoult?” I blurt out.
He inclines his head.
“Pleased to meet the woman of Sin’s heart.”
I blush at that mention. “Is that how you described me?” I whisper to Sin.
He nods proudly. “Although I should have been more precise: You are my heart.”
“You may continue your sweet talk after we have saved my own heart,” Arnoult mentions dryly.
As we wait for the clock to strike midnight, the designated meeting time, I can’t help but keep glancing at Arnoult, trying to make sense of it all. He looks to be in his mid-to-late thirties, which already puts me on edge, because Leah is probably half his age.
Sin notices my scrutiny and comes closer. “Are you all right? Do you want to go?”
“No. No, I’m fine. I want to see Leah safe.”
“Okay. But if anything happens, know that I’m taking you away from here.”
“Sin, I’ll be fine,” I assure him.
He follows my line of sight toward his mentor.
“How old is he?”
“I’m thirty-six, Miss,” Arnoult answers.
Right. Double Leah’s age. But at least he’s not pushing fifty like Snowden.
“Isn’t it a bit of an age difference between you and Leah? How did you two even meet?” I can’t help but ask.
His brows go up, and it’s a wonder I can even see them behind those thickly rimmed glasses.
Sin’s hand brushes my waist, a light touch. Maybe a signal for me to stop pressing. But I continue.
“Did you take advantage of her?” I ask him squarely.
“What? Me? Never,” he says vehemently. “Do you think I wanted to fall in love with a girl half my age? At first, it was just stolen glances and furtive smiles. But eventually we started talking when no one was watching. I would come to her home to talk with her father, and before I left, she would always give me a little treat for the road, she’d say.
But those small gestures became all I could look forward to. ”
He looks at Sin. “If you doubt my intentions, ask your lover. He knows exactly how I feel about Leah. That I would never hurt her.”
“You’re hurting her right now. Don’t you realize? You and her father are enemies. You got her pregnant while she’s still living with her father. Don’t you think that puts her at risk?”
“I . . .” he trails off. “I didn’t know about the pregnancy until very recently.”
“Doesn’t matter. You exposed her to the risk.
Do you not realize what these men are capable of—her father, my father?
They don’t care about who they hurt as long as they fulfill whatever sinister purpose they have in mind.
And if Snowden believes that she’s valuable to you, don’t you think he’s going to use that?
That he’s going to use her to get to you? ”
“Petra, let’s not do this now,” Sin whispers.
“You’re right. We can talk about this later—after Leah is safe.
But don’t think for a moment that I’m not watching you.
I don’t care what your relationship is with Sin.
I don’t care how much he esteems you. Leah is a young girl.
A young, impressionable girl who is currently in danger. And half of it is your fault.”
He has no reply to that. He just stares at me.
I turn my back to him, not wanting to engage further. On the one hand, I can empathize with the fact that they’re two star-crossed lovers, defying all odds to be together, including age-related odds. But at the same time, I don’t know what the circumstances of their relationship are.
And Leah, poor girl . . . whenever I saw her, she was always so moody, so sad and depressed. I can’t be sure he didn’t take advantage of that, can I?
I expect Sin to chastise me for my harsh words toward his mentor, but instead, I catch him smiling at me.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Hmm?”
“This is why I love you—because you fight for what you think is right.”
“You’re not angry that I’m fighting with your mentor?”
He shrugs. “My mentor and I have our own relationship. I don’t need you to have the same views about him, especially in this situation.” He pauses. “And just for the record,” he adds a little louder, “I did not agree with the relationship either. I told him she was too young.”
Arnoult shakes his head and sighs in exasperation.
“Alas, this is neither the time nor the place for this,” Sin then says. He pulls out his pocket watch and watches the hands move slowly into place. “Five more minutes.”
So, we wait.
And then the clock strikes twelve. Midnight.
There’s no sign of Leah.
Not only that—but there’s no sound coming from the house.
Nothing.
“I should go after her,” Arnoult says.
“No,” Sin interrupts. “I’ll go. You stay here with Petra. It’s better if I’m in and out, taking her out of there without alerting anyone. And it’s especially better if no one sees you.”
Arnoult presses his lips together. “You’re right. Thank you.”
Just as Sin is about to head inside the house in search of Leah, footsteps echo from that direction. There’s a thumping on the ground, a rustling of leaves.
“Someone’s coming,” Sin whispers.
The sounds grow louder and closer.
The steps become more frantic until a lone figure swishes through the night. I catch a flash of blue muslin against the stark darkness of the environment.
“Sin . . . there she is.”
She comes into view, stopping just as she reaches the gate.
Without a word, Sin uses his shadows to teleport to the other side of the gate, grabbing her and moving her seamlessly to our side.
The moment she sees Arnoult, her expression transforms into one of pure joy, and for a brief moment, I forget my complaints from before as I watch her run into his arms, sobbing with happiness and relief.
Arnoult hugs her tightly to his chest, kissing the top of her hair, her cheeks, and then her mouth.
“You’re safe. You’re with me,” he whispers.
“I can’t believe you’re here, too. I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”
“Ah, my love, nothing would stop me from coming for you. I told you, I will always come for you.”
Tears flow down her cheeks.
“I love you,” she murmurs in a soft voice.
“I love you, too. So damn much. Now we can be together. The two of us and . . .” he trails off as he places his hand to her stomach. “And our baby.” He takes a deep breath. “I can’t believe we made a baby,” he whispers.
“We did,” she replies. “We’re going to be a family.”
They continue to hold each other tightly. Despite my reservations about Arnoult, he seems to really care about her. I suppose that is enough for me—for now.
As they break apart, Leah turns to me, her eyes misty. “Thank you, Petra. Thank you for everything,” she murmurs in a low, broken voice.
“Of course. I told you I would help. I just want to see you happy, Leah.”
She smiles and glances at Arnoult. “I will be now. That I vow to you. He’s all I need to be happy.”
The sight of the two lovers, so clearly in love, warms my heart and, in turn, makes me happy.
“We should leave,” Sin says, but no sooner does he speak than a low, malevolent laughter reverberates through the stillness of the night.
We all freeze in place.
A slow clap follows, then another bout of laughter.
“Thank you, my dear Leah, for finally bringing me face-to-face with this snake,” Snowden reveals, stepping forward.
We watch, stunned.
Had he been here the entire time?
No. That’s not possible . . . is it?
Was this all a ruse? Her note? Was it all a trap?
Arnoult’s expression is one of shock. Leah’s is one of disbelief. Whatever this is, I don’t think it’s of her doing.
The gates swing open, and Snowden casually struts toward us. Behind him trails a shadowy figure.
My breath leaves my body as I realize who it is.
The creature. The undead creature.
Arnoult pushes Leah behind him, ready to protect her with his body.
“So naughty of you to get my daughter pregnant, Sinclair. That’s not what old friends do, is it?”
“Sin, take Leah and Petra and get out of here. This is between me and Snowden.”
“No, no,” Snowden replies in a singsong voice. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. You’re not going anywhere with my property.”
His gaze goes from Leah to me, implying we both belong to him.
He is insane!
“I should have realized there was something amiss with you, Petra. Your presence always gave me a headache.”
“I’m glad,” I grumble under my breath.
“You’re not the docile little thing your father advertised. Too bad. I suppose I shall have to recommence my search for another bride. After I get rid of you, of course.”
“You really think you’re going to get away with it?” Sin challenges, brow raised. “Without Arnoult, you are nothing.”
“Perhaps. But I still have this,” he says as he holds up his hand, and the walking corpse moves next to him.
Her eyes are dead, empty. She’s just a vessel for violence.
Sin smiles. “I’ve always loved a good challenge.”
He urges me to get back while he takes off his coat, folding it and placing it in my arms. “Take care of this for me. It’s a rather rare model,” he adds with a wink.
A wink?
I stare in shock at him. Does he think this is a game?
“Sin . . .”
“Ah, I see now who you are,” Snowden laughs. “That odd one, what was your name? Kimar something.” He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Bad energy, both of you.”
Sin chuckles. “As if you could recognize any type of energy.”
Snowden reddens in anger; it seems this is a sore spot.
“I will deal with you later. But first . . .” He gives Sin a harsh look before turning to Leah and Arnoult. He casually checks his pocket watch and . . . waits?
I frown. The others seem just as confused about what’s going on.
It’s not until . . .
“S-Sinclair,” Leah speaks in a low, trembling voice. “S-something is w-w-wrong.”
“What? What are you talking about?” he asks, his voice full of concern.
Snowden, meanwhile, continues to smirk as he watches the unfolding scene.
“I—” Leah starts, but on the next breath, she starts coughing blood. She wraps her arms around her abdomen as she continues to throw up a brownish-red liquid.
“What did you do?” Arnoult demands. He’s holding tightly onto Leah, but even in the dim lighting coming from a faraway streetlight, I can see the paleness of her pallor.
“No blood of mine will mingle with yours,” Snowden spits out, malice dripping from his words.
“You . . . You . . . No . . .” Arnoult mutters, now utterly panicked as he crouches next to Leah on the grass. She can no longer speak. Every breath is labored and accompanied by bouts of bloody cough.
“You poisoned your own daughter?” I ask in shock.
Snowden shrugs. “She brought this onto herself for dallying with that devil. Now, she will suffer the consequences. And you—” he glances at Arnoult— “you will suffer all the same knowing it’s because of you that she died.”
“Leah, please,” Arnoult tries to get her to react, but it’s too late.
Her entire body has gone slack, her eyes empty.
I press my hand to my mouth in shock. She falls against Arnoult’s chest like a lifeless doll. She’s dead. Her own father killed her.
“Now that that’s out of the way, I believe you and I have some unfinished business, Arnoult,” Snowden adds nonchalantly.