THE POISONER #2
The strings rippled up my chest before they pulled snug around my throat, Silas’s hands bunching them at the nape of my neck.
He leaned down to my ear. “Don’t break my heart just yet.
” He pulled a little tighter. “Wear them well, hold yourself upright, and I can strip you of everything after a good show,” he teased.
I tilted my head backward as he stared down at me. “You’re mistaken. I don’t think I have good enough breeding for such a show.”
He let go of the pearls, opening one of the other boxes. A smaller piece, a rosary to match the necklaces, with a golden cross laid with seed pearls. Whoever made it must not have minded the sin of prodigality, but the commissioner I already knew suffered from great pride and avarice.
“They say rotting wealth will consume your flesh like fire.” I traced my finger over the detailing of the chair arm.
“Is that so?” He placed one hand on each arm of the chair to glower over me, the pearls clutched in his grip.
“I can hold myself well without riches,” I said.
“Consume your flesh like fire,” he repeated, placing the pearl-clutching hand on my leg, pushing the fabric skirt up as he leaned in. “Will it be my flesh?” he whispered in my ear, then his cool hand slipped between my thighs. “Or yours?”
I glanced toward Sidney, wondering if he was hearing this. Thank the Lord above he wasn’t seeing it.
Silas touched me, slipping his fingers between my legs. The pearls rubbed against my clit, his fingers facing no resistance when they slipped inside.
I flinched, refusing to look at him.
My face was hotter than a whistling kettle. If I got any warmer I may be deemed feverishly ill. At the same time, it was completely disturbing of me to be enjoying any part of this.
He removed his fingers halfway, then pushed in, but it included one or two beads of pearls.
My face snapped to him, and our noses touched.
Such a wicked, devilish grin on the most nefarious Creature.
He pushed in a few more beads, leaning down to whisper in my ear as he stroked, our cheeks pressed together. “I believe it is your flesh afire.” His words were smooth like decade-old bourbon, a flavor so vivid in the mind I could feel it on my tongue before the desire desiccated into a moan.
I gasped when he pressed farther, a crowded pressure from the inside, the slick pearls easily slipping to the back as his fingers moved.
“Such a rare beauty requires an appropriate amount of care, especially when handling,” he said, the last pearl pressing inside as he held his hand there. “You’ll carry them delicately, won’t you?”
He removed his fingers from me, the crucifix dangling down, held by the pearls. It tickled against my thigh.
Silas looked sincere. “You’ll be paying for those if they drop and break.” He licked his fingers, the split tongue dancing over the wetness as he savored it. “We don’t want that.” He smiled.
“No, we don’t,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean you’re getting them back at the end of the night.”
“We will see,” he accepted the challenge, “though I don’t know how I feel negotiating with a thief.”
“You’re right, I could steal far more than pearls.” I stood from the chair slowly. The necklace was secure, the cross pressed between my thighs.
I stepped up to the mirror, smoothing my hands down my waist and hips to get a feel for the shape and cut. The dress was rather beautiful, a bit more reflective. With the tighter fit and gloss of the fabric, it looked quite seductive; possibly too much so.
Silas stood beside the mirror, simply watching.
I did a turn, then gathered my hair to imagine the completed look.
It was hard to look at myself in the mirror.
A strange concoction of shame and vanity.
My skin was so pale it was comparative to marble, blemishless, smooth, and pink undertones had to fight to come through.
Some veins of my arms appeared black, easily mistaken for a smear of charcoal here and there.
The poliosis among black hair made my eyes a bit frightening with my already peculiar appearance.
“I’m dreadful.” I bit my lip as I studied myself.
Silas stepped up, looking in the mirror as he stood behind me to see as I saw myself. He tipped his head, touching my arms to pull them away from my hair and let it fall. With gathering hands, he draped the midnight waves down my back, clearing the way to see my face and neck more.
“You are the most terrifying woman,” he said with such adoration, “you could stop a heart with just a flutter of those pretty lashes.”
I avoided my reflection for the view of the floor.
Silas took my head between his hands and pointed my face back to the mirror. I stared at his eyes through the reflection.
“One would be so lucky to see those eyes before they pass, and if they somehow survived, they may become a poet just to tell the tale,” he said pointedly.
I didn’t want to look sad, but somehow I found myself melting.
“Wear this for me?” he asked so sweetly, his hands smoothing down either side of my neck before placing his lips on my shoulder, “it’s just the household tonight before we have to perform for guests.”
I leaned back into him, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, squeezing tightly as he kissed the side of my face.
Tonight’s dinner was buffet style. The entire dining table was full of small plates and bite-sized food. Just a taste test for the dinners of the days to come. One half was the designated menu for the Hosts, the other half was for the Vipera palate.
The teardrop pearls in my ears tickled my skin as they swayed, so did the crucifix between my legs with each sweep of my heel.
My hair was mostly up, the length that wasn’t pinned was finely curled and draped over my shoulder.
Multiple layers of pearls secured high on my neck and then some slightly looser fell between my breasts.
The opera gloves cut off mid-biceps, and my rings shimmered over the silk of my fingers.
My most important accessory—Silas’s arm looped through mine.
He wore a black set, as usual, except his tie and handkerchief matched my dress, and a mother-of-pearl collar pin.
“My dear girl, you are simply haunting,” Phoebe’s voice chirped as she came to my other arm, then surprisingly, a playful nip at my ear.
“Are you already drunk?” I pinched her chin and shook it.
“Only five.”
“Five? Glasses? Bottles?”
“A lady never discusses her diet,” she quipped, then stared at her brother. “You should have some too, settle your nerves.”
“Nerves?” He raised his brow. “I wouldn’t quite pin that as the emotion of choice.”
“If you say so,” she huffed, “but I’m stealing her. Find something else to do.”
He patted my arm to tell me to let go, giving me a playful brow raise before Phoebe dragged me away.
“Tonight is a night of celebration for how far we’ve come,” she giggled, placing a glass in my hand.
It was a clear Pontarlier glass with a Scheele green liquor in the reservoir.
“Absinthe?” I mumbled.
“As the French say, à la tienne!” She chimed her glass to mine and drank.
I took a sip, the flavor mostly preserved from the limited sense of taste. I suppose most liquors’ flavor was from strong poisons, so there was no surprise it was included in the Vipera tongue.
Phoebe tipped her head into mine as she wrapped an arm around me.
We watched as our household buzzed to different foods, the candle flames dancing as they moved to and fro.
Not even the chandelier was lit tonight.
Just the collection of candles on the tables and the enormous mantel.
Some took nooks by the street windows, others leaned on walls or pulled out lounging seats.
Soon the entire home would have to be firing on all pistons between staff, lighting, presentation, and maintenance.
But for now, it was only us. One more night of peace.
“The pearls are nice.” Phoebe touched the ones on my neck, rolling them between her fingers.
“It’s new to me.” I shrugged. “Not that I would have dared look at something so costly.”
“As much as I disagree with a lot of my brother’s attitudes, he does have taste.”
“Expensive taste, not sure how fashionable it truly is.”
“Expensive will always be fashionable,” she joked.
“What do you think of that?” I tipped my head across the room.
Luka looked monstrous next to Mary. She was speaking to him, fast and pointed. Her hands were gesturing as she spoke. You would have thought she may have been scolding him, if it weren’t for brief curls of the edges of her lips.
He didn’t speak back, just listened with a tilted head and hands behind his back.
“Strange times, strange friends,” Phoebe said, “though they seem to get closer every time the Buffalo girls visit.”
“Rebecca, what do you think?” Phoebe said over her shoulder.
Rebecca tipped her head, not bothering to push herself off the wall as she drank the blood in her cup. Her eyes only stayed on Mary and Luka for a moment before she shook her head. “None of our business.”
“The point of socializing is at least entertaining the conversation,” Phoebe huffed.
“There’s more noteworthy conversations than simple gossip.” Rebecca’s eye twitched as she finished off what remained in her cup. “I have one for you, Alina.”
My throat was already dry before the swallow, but somehow the way she said my name made it a harder gulp.
“What do you think about self-determination of the city Nests?” Rebecca did abandon her comfort spot by the wall to step into our little gossip circle.
The metallic tinge on her breath mixed with a distinctly fermented quality indicated bloodwine was the sponsor of this conversation, which meant there was a high chance it wouldn’t fare well for one of us.
“Or even the self-determination of the individuals of a Nest?”
It seemed as though it was an easy question, but still interrogative. Combative, even.
“We,” I said, gesturing to Phoebe, “had discussed with the other city establishments that we believed in their right to be their own establishments, even if we are successful with our treaties with the other Nests.”