Chapter 12 #2
“Dorian and I go way back.” Sybil cants her head, her lyrical voice curling in the air between us.
I can feel her compulsion stretching out towards Edie as a slow smile creeps across her face.
Edie visibly recoils. “We’ve spent many years in each other’s company, shared fabulous meals, drunk from the finest—”
“Enough,” I warn, my jaw gritting.
Sybil lets the silence stretch, savouring every stilted second. Then she raises her glass in a lazy salute, eyes never leaving mine. Edie’s chair scrapes against the floor as she stands.
“I think it’s time we leave. Henrietta, Elizabeth. Let’s go.”
“Edie, stay—” I begin, but she lifts her hand, cutting me off. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sybil raise her brows before realisation creeps across her face.
Fuck.
“Thank you for dinner, but I’ve suddenly got a bad taste in my mouth.”
“Agreed,” Elizabeth says, cutting Sybil a look as she stands. “I would say it was a pleasure to meet you, but that would be a lie.”
“But, my dear. It is a pleasure to meet me. In fact, I think you’d both very much like to stay and get to know me more, hmm? Sit down,” Sybil commands, narrowing her eyes on Elizabeth, then Edie before she takes another sip of wine.
Edie doesn’t respond, not because she’s under Sybil’s spell, but because she’s shaking with anger, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and touch her, to reassure her, but given Sybil’s volatile state right now, that would be unwise.
Despite being her maker and therefore more powerful than Sybil, I can’t afford to correct her behaviour without revealing what I am to Edie.
“I said, sit down,” Sybil repeats.
“What is it with you people bossing us about like you own us? I don’t take orders from him,” Elizabeth responds, pointing at Viktor with a glare before fixing her gaze back on Sybil, “And I certainly don’t take orders from you.”
Sybil merely laughs, but I recognise the calculated look on her face as she watches Elizabeth stride around the table and grasp Henrietta’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“Wait, what’s happening?” Henrietta asks, blinking up at Elizabeth before trailing her gaze back to Sybil.
“Perhaps dessert won’t be so disappointing after all. You should stay,” Sybil insists.
“I’d be happy too,” Henrietta replies, smiling softly.
“No. You should leave,” Logan says.
Henrietta snaps her attention to Logan. “I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I’d like to get to know your friend, Sybil, a little more.”
“Absolultey-fucking-not,” he shoots back.
Elizabeth lets out an exasperated breath, tugging on Henrietta’s arm. “Hettie, we’re leaving.”
“She wants to stay, don’t you, Henrietta?” Sybil persists, her finger slowly trailing down the stem of her glass.
“Enough, Sybil,” Logan snaps before I can.
Sybil rests her glass on the table. “This is dinner, is it not?”
“We’ve already eaten,” he bites out.
This time, Elizabeth yanks Henrietta up by her arm, and Edie, who has been quietly watching this all unfold, rushes to them, helping to manoeuvre her out of the room.
With one last glance at me, Edie urges them both through the door.
It slams shut behind them, and I push to my feet, rounding on Sybil.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asks, her fangs slowly dropping.
“Enough of the games, Sybil. I’m warning you.”
“What, darling? Isn’t that precisely what we do, play with our food?”
“Not with these women.”
“You do realise what they are? Or at least what two of them are, that pretty little blonde—”
“Is none of your fucking concern,” Logan interjects.
“Oh, but she is. She’s immune to your compulsion, and yet not mine. I find that rather curious.”
“They’re off limits. Understood?” I warn before striding after them, Sybil’s laughter following me out.
“What the hell was that all about?” Elizabeth asks, jabbing the button to call the lift as I step out into the entrance hall moments later. “That woman was… predatory.”
“You mean Sybil? I thought she was rather alluring,” Henrietta says, her eyes glazed as she sways on her feet. Fuck. I’m not sure what’s worse, that Henrietta has been so affected by Sybil or that Edie and Elizabeth haven’t. Either way, they’re all in danger of Sybil’s attention now.
“Christ, Henrietta. How much did you have to drink? Did you not see how she was looking at us? It was weird,” Elizabeth replies.
“It was,” Edie agrees. “Let’s just go.”
She’s rattled, and I suspect some long-repressed instinct warns her just how real the danger is. I loathe that Sybil did this to her.
“I apologise for Sybil’s behaviour just now,” I say, making my presence known.
Edie stiffens, my voice pulling her up sharp as the doors to the lift slide open. Elizabeth and Henrietta step inside as she hovers on the threshold.
“Edie, get in the lift. We need to leave. I don’t trust that woman. I don’t trust any of them,” Elizabeth adds, glaring at me.
The doors start to slide shut, but I stride forward, holding them open, angling my body so that instead of blocking Edie, I give her room to pass. “Edie, despite what Sybil implied, you’re not a prisoner here. You’re free to leave.”
“So what was she implying, exactly?” Edie asks, that fire I’ve come to admire, lighting her up in exquisite anger. “Because I got the distinct impression she was trying to intimidate us.”
“Intimidate us? That woman was trying to scare us,” Elizabeth says.
“I won’t make any excuses for her behaviour. What I will say is that she is as protective of me as Elizabeth is of you.”
“More like territorial,” Elizabeth observes. “If she had the opportunity to piss on you, I’m sure she would’ve.”
I grind my teeth, but don’t respond.
“You and Sybil are a lot closer than friends, aren’t you?” Edie accuses.
“We have history, yes,” I concede, “But we are nothing more than friends now.”
“Does she know that?”
“She’s well aware, and after all these years, entirely uninterested in me despite how it might appear. The feeling is mutual, believe me.”
Her shoulders drop, just a little, just enough to tell me that she trusts my word.
“How long have you been friends, exactly?”
I pause, searching Edie’s gaze. “A long time.”
She nods. “Ordinarily, I admire powerful women who protect the people they care about, but Sybil feels different. More viper than mama bear.”
“You’ve got that right,” Elizabeth mutters.
Edie waits for a response, but there’s nothing I can say because she’s right. Sybil is a viper, and her bite is deadly.
“Well, if that’s all. I want to leave,” Edie says.
“Of course, but Edie?”
“Yes?” she replies, stepping into the lift as Elizabeth frantically presses the button to close the doors.
“This isn’t over.” Then I step back, allowing the doors to slide shut.