17. Seraphina
17
SERAPHINA
“RUBBER DUCKIE, RUBBER DUCKIE”
I find my way back to Vee’s lair just as the sun crests over the horizon, cold and muddy and miserable from my trek through the forest. I find my clothes discarded near the clearing in front of the mountain, my face heating as I snatch them up and yank them over my ice-cold skin. As the material falls over my flesh, I’m reminded of the masked man’s touch, and my blood heats.
I shouldn’t feel this way. I shouldn’t still be thinking about it. About him.
Shaking him from my mind, I press my wrist to the rock wall, hoping the scraping sound doesn’t wake Vee. Silent as a mouse, I skitter to the bathroom, breathing a sigh of relief when I don’t come across Vee. I turn the water as hot as it will go and step under the stream, my eyes closing in bliss as my body begins to thaw.
Against my will, my mind wanders to the man in the forest. I hear that strange mechanical voice in my mind as clearly as if he were in the room with me, but instead of terror, it only elicits a deep throbbing in my core.
My hand slips down to my sex, my head leaning back against the tile as I swirl my fingertip around my clit. This is wrong. All wrong. But fuck, it feels so good.
I clamp my hand over my mouth as I come, doubling over and coating my hand in slippery arousal. For a moment, I imagine it's the masked man who’s making me come, and my body convulses with a fresh wave of pleasure.
Spent, I slide to the shower floor, resting my forehead on my knees as the last of my orgasm runs its course. Gentle quivers wrack my muscles as the water pelts down my neck and back, the sensation so blissful I almost nod off.
My body falls to the side, my eyes springing open as a jolt of pain emanates from my hip. Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I stand from the shower, not even bothering to turn off the water as I walk to the mirror.
So it really wasn’t a dream…
My mouth falls at the symbol carved into my hip, at the angry pink flesh spreading from what is unmistakably a crescent moon. It’s only an inch long from tip to tip, though it stands out against my pale skin like a beacon. A brand.
My fingers shake as I prod at the sensitive spot, wincing as fresh blood pools from the wound. It’s not large, but it’s deep—and it will undoubtedly leave a scar.
As if I don’t have enough already.
My throat constricts as I grab the first-aid kit beneath the sink. The antiseptic burns, but it’s nothing compared to the fire behind my eyes or the wildfire in my veins. I slap a dressing over the wound and leave the bathroom, the spot on my hip pulsing with each step.
I yank on a pair of leggings and simple black tee and head into the kitchen, gentle clanking sounds telling me Vee is there before I see her. I stop a few feet from the island, chewing my lip as she busies herself over the stove.
“And where did you go last night?”
I swallow hard, my eyes pinned to her back. “Nowhere.”
“Hmm. Two panicked tigers told me otherwise.” She finally turns, hitting me with a piercing stare. “I do not enjoy being awoken by two great beasts jumping in my bed, Seraphina.” Her tone is severe, but her bloodstone eyes shine with worry, causing my chest to constrict with guilt. “Where did you go? And why? ”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I just woke up in the middle of the forest. I think I sleepwalked.” I decide not to mention the parts about the masked man and lack of clothes. There’s no reason to give the poor woman a heart attack.
She looses a heavy sigh, pulling the frying pan from the stove and dumping a heaping serving of eggs and bacon onto a plate. “I’m afraid that may have been my fault, then. The Valerian tincture…”
“Don’t worry, Vee. I’m perfectly fine. See?” I spin in a circle, forcing a teasing smile onto my face. I should tell her it wasn’t the tincture—that I used to sleepwalk constantly when I was younger—but again… I don’t want to cause her undue worry.
She smiles, passing me a plate of steaming goodness. I snatch it with a hurried “thank you” and scurry to the island where I promptly shove the food down my throat.
“Seraphina!” Vee shakes her head in dismay at my animalistic display, an unused fork held limply in her hand. “This is getting ridiculous.”
I give her a closed-mouth grin, my cheeks puffed with the amount of eggs I have stored away. She sighs tiredly and turns to grab herself a plate, taking a seat next to me while taking small, civilized bites of breakfast.
When we’re done, I give Sviato and Savyne their morning meal and head into the living room to help Vee with her weekly cleaning. Vee moves to the record player in the corner of the room, her fingers moving swiftly through the titles before selecting a vibrant Jackie Wilson album. Baby Workout blasts from the speakers as Vee spins in a circle, her mouth pulled into a rare smile as she sways to the tune.
Her energy is so infectious, I find my own hips moving to the beat, my feet dancing closer to Vee. She reaches for me, and we dance in a circle as the chorus breaks out, laughter filling the dim space with light and joy.
When the last note rings out, Vee throws her arm over my shoulder, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. She turns her head slightly, giving me a smile warm enough to rival the sun. “Thank you, dear. I needed that.”
The record skips to the next song as she pulls away, her hips still swaying as she reaches for the duster. She passes it to me as she grabs a mop and broom, and we continue our cleaning in silence.
I’m reaching up to dust the last shelf full of ducks when the song changes again, the melancholy notes of “To Be Loved” filling the large space. A sniff punctuates the chords of the song, and I snap my head toward Vee, surprised to find her close to tears. Her misty eyes are fixed on the rubber duck in her palm, shoulders quaking with the effort to hold in her cries.
The emotion is so raw—so foreign coming from Vee—that I merely stand there staring for a few minutes, trying to wrap my head around the sight.
“Vee?” I whisper. “Vee, are you okay?”
She snaps upright, eyes wild like she forgot I was in the room. Like she forgot where she was for a moment. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Of course I am.” She places the duck gingerly onto the shelf. “Just lost to a memory.”
I wait in silence, my chest cracking wide at the faraway look in Vee’s bloodshot eyes. She reaches up, resting her hand just out of reach of the row of rubber ducks, a wry smile twisting her wrinkled mouth.
“I bet you think I’m crazy to keep all these stupid toys,” she murmurs, carefully wiping a speck of dust from one of the ducks’ bills. “I never did tell you why I collect them, did I?”
“I don’t think so.” I keep my voice low in an attempt to seem disinterested. Vee is like a spooked clamshell—only ever opening her heart at rare, inconsistent times. One wrong word and she’ll close up, locking away her secrets until the next blue moon rolls around. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it, though,” I add, giving her a timid glance.
She chuckles, her eyes misting as she looks down at the yellow duck in her palm. “It’s probably too boring a story for a girl your age. Too wishy-washy.”
I shake my head in earnest. “Tell me about the ducks, Vee. Don’t you dare hold out on me now.”
She throws her head back in a throaty laugh, the sound bringing light to the space filled with so much shadow. When she stops, there’s a brightness to her gaze that wasn’t there before. “Alright, I’ll tell you. But don’t blame me if I get a little… emotional.” She turns her nose up at the last word, though her eyes betray her.
I turn my gaze to the shelf filled with oddities, pointing at one with a pirate hat. “You can start by telling me about that one.”
Vee shakes her head, her mouth twisting into a sad smile. “It’s not necessarily the ducks themselves, but what they represent.”
“And that is?” I lean forward, giving Vee my full attention.
She looks to the side, her eyes shadowed with memories of the past. “The first man I loved—the only man—he gave me one of those silly things the first night he kissed me.”
I open my mouth to ask, but she shakes her head, reading my thoughts. “The original duck is long gone. But even now—even all these years later… Whenever I see one of those stupid ducks, I have to keep it. It helps me remember him. Remember the things we had. The love we shared.”
She looks so sad, so tortured, I’m almost too scared to ask. But I have to. “Who is he?” I ask. “The man?”
Vee smiles, but it’s not a happy one. “Whatever he is no longer matters, I’m afraid.” She turns her eyes to her lap. “He died when I was sixteen.”
Pain clenches my heart as I look at her face, so worn by a life of hardships. Of heartache. “I’m so sorry, Vee.” I long to reach out and touch her, comfort her in some way. But I know my touch will only make matters worse for her.
She shakes her head, a frown pulling at her brows as the song comes to an end. “It was long ago. Long enough that it shouldn’t matter. Shouldn’t… sting.”
“Some wounds can’t be healed by time.” I step toward her, deciding to risk it and grab her hand. Her head snaps up, though the emotion I expect to see is replaced by a deep, swirling gratitude. I’m not sure what Vee went through in her past. I only know that right here, right now, she needs someone to lean on.
“Come on.” I tug her by the hand toward the couch. “Let’s watch one of your shitty—I mean, distinguished— black-and-white movies.”
Vee lets out a weak chuckle but still squeezes my hand and lets me lead her to the couch. The tigers join us, sensing the sadness oozing from Vee’s pores. Even Savyne cuddles up to her, giving her arm a gentle lick and nuzzling her giant head against her chest.
She gets lost in the film not too long after, and though I wish I could follow her, my mind is stuck on something far more sinister. It doesn’t help that Vee picked out an old Western, that each actor with a face covering brings an image of the masked man to the forefront of my mind.
While Vee begins to relax, I fall deeper into my inner turmoil. I’m filled with so many questions I don’t know where to start—although there is one thing I’d like to know now more than anything.
What is he up to right now?