3. Pippa
PIPPA
Ilook down at my plate of elegant sandwiches stacked with colorful vegetables, meats, and cheeses, but I can’t check the roll of my eyes at the tittering giggle of the woman to my right.
Kay is too young and full of romantic notions to be sitting among monsters and the dying, but it can’t be helped.
“Mr. Roan,” Kay says, her voice pitched higher than usual. “What do you think I should wear for my first new moon party?”
My eyes catch Shemaiah’s. His dark gaze immediately slides away, hiding his own barely concealed eye roll. He came in late to lunch and hasn’t spoken much since, but that little shared reaction has me hiding a smile behind my napkin.
“And which Roan would you be addressing, Miss Hoff?” Jafeth asks. “Certainly you aren’t asking the older Mr. Roan? He has a terrible sense of style.”
“Excuse me?” Noah Roan, the oldest of the three Roan brothers, scoffs. His arms rest against the edge of the table, eating implements in hand. “I’m not that old. And I do not have a terrible sense of style.”
Which is true. He’s very handsome. All the Roan brothers and their sister are inhumanely attractive.
Their faces are perfectly proportional, their dark eyes soulful and fringed with thick lashes while framed with expressive brows.
All four of them have dark hair, perfectly coiffed, though the eldest, Noah, tends to run his hands through his so often, it loses its pomaded shape.
His wife Ruby is always trying to put it back in order, though I think she’d take any excuse to touch him.
Zarah is a feminine version of her brothers.
Each of them dress impeccably, which their wealth allows.
They’re made to be beautiful, to tempt. Biology designed to lure prey. Dangerous.
Sometimes I wonder if Dr. Witten knows what they are, and that’s why he tried to warn me away.
He’s always treated me a bit more like a daughter than just a patient.
Maybe because I was pregnant when I was first admitted to The Sanatorium.
As terrifying as the Roans are, though, I’m glad I agreed to come with them.
It won’t result in what I’d originally hoped, but this is a far better way to spend my remaining days than staring at a wall in a hospital gown.
My gaze slides to Shemaiah again, unable to resist looking at him, noting the differences between him and his siblings.
His hair is longer than Jafeth’s and Noah’s, so he ties it at his nape to keep it away from his face.
I secretly enjoy watching him untie it, shake it out, and then refasten it, though I’m not sure why.
His nose is perfectly straight, leading to lips a touch fuller than his siblings. Kissable.
No. Not kissable. I know the threat of a pretty face and learned long ago not to trust beauty alone.
“Personally, I adore your style in all your decrepit, old man glory.” Ruby smiles at her husband over her wineglass.
“I should compel you all to shut your mouths.” Noah glares at his siblings before returning his attention to his wife and arching one brow. “And you, my dear, will pay for that later.”
“Exactly as I hoped,” Ruby fake-whispers to me, while her eyes remain on her mate.
“Can you two go an hour without coupling?” Zarah pushes the food around her plate with a scowl.
“Why would we want to?” Noah’s eyes are as black as night—a Mavarri trait I still haven’t deciphered. It seems to happen a lot when he looks at her, though.
When the Roans first told us they’re Mavarri, I didn’t believe them. But then I saw their differences for myself. The times when their eyes darken to pitch black. The way their teeth lengthen. Their increase in size when they grow larger, faster, stronger. Their craving for blood. True predators.
The things I’ve seen them do in the few short weeks I’ve been here fill me with a cold thrill. Things I could do, too, if one of them fell in love with me and made me Mavarri. Like Noah did with Ruby on Winter Solstice.
The venom of a Mavarri is usually harmless and pleasurable, but twice a year at the Summer and Winter Solstice, their venom changes.
In theory, it can transform a human into a Mavarri, but most die from a Solstice bite, except for those in love.
Shemaiah and Jafeth didn’t know that last part when they first invited us here, and only discovered it once Noah bit Ruby.
The memory of that night makes me clutch my knife tighter.
Zarah shakes her head and mutters something about returning to the privacy of her prison. From what I understand, her father kept her locked up in one of the towers for years before he died—well, more accurately, before she killed him.
Everyone around this table witnessed it. We all took part in it on the Winter Solstice.
“To answer your question, Kay,” Jafeth says, cutting into my thoughts, “might I suggest wearing something comfortable?” He grins, fangs flashing. “And easy to remove.”
Jafeth, a willing seducer, is just as intent on pursuing the three of us as Kay and Anna are intent on pursuing him. I can’t tell if he truly wants to fall in love or if this whole thing is simply a great game to him. Whatever it is, he clearly enjoys the attention.
“Mr. Roan! You’re scandalous.” Anna gasps with a hand pressed to her chest, though it’s clear she’s not scandalized in the least.
“If you think that’s scandalous, you shouldn’t attend the party.” Zarah takes a hearty bite of her sandwich before setting it back down on her plate.
I don’t know much about the new moon party, apart from the fact that it takes place once a month.
A closely guarded secret known only to the most elite of New Essik, the gathering is when the Roan family gives in to their baser instincts as Mavarri.
They indulge all of their appetites. And those of their guests.
A night of debauchery where the guests are kept so pleasure-drunk they forget or don’t believe what little they see of their hosts’ true natures.
A shiver climbs my spine like sensual fingers tracing each vertebrae.
A strange sort of appeal and repulsion overcomes me all at once when I think about Shemaiah’s sharp teeth puncturing soft flesh.
Tension coils in my gut like a spring. Instinct tells me I need to be alert, prepared to run.
But I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be running away from or towards these beautiful creatures.
“Will you be attending the party, Miss Willoughby?” Shemaiah asks.
The question sounds like genuine curiosity and a dare, his expression too neutral to be certain which he intends.
All the Roan siblings hide behind something.
Shemaiah’s default seems to be casual indifference.
He’s standoffish and isolates himself, preferring to spend time in the library reading, or outside in the wilderness.
I’m surprised he’s voicing the question at all, though since asking him to bring my son to the island we seem to have developed…
an understanding. His behavior towards me has crossed from indifference to muted acceptance.
Almost friendship. Though I’m not sure he would agree.
He is by far my favorite of the Roan siblings to spend time with, though.
Mostly because being with him requires so little from me.
“I don’t believe I will,” I answer.
“Oh?” His head tilts to the side, the only indication that he’s pondering my words.
“You have to come. Consider it how you pay your rent.” Jafeth winks at me as he takes another bite of his lunch.
“Jafeth!” Ruby scolds. “These women are guests. They’re under no obligation to oblige your appetites.”
Jafeth shrugs.
“Pippa’s coming,” Kay giggles. “None of us would miss it.”
“She’s just playing hard to get.” Anna raises her eyebrows at me as if she just pulled back the curtain on a peep show and revealed my true motives. It’s hard for Anna to understand why I wouldn’t have the same motivations she does.
Even though I have no delusions about falling in love, I’m grateful the Roans allowed us to stay here rather than returning us to The Sanatorium.
The elaborate Roan Estate is much better than the dingy halls and prodding doctors we left behind.
But I’m not interested in playing this game of win-the-bachelor.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a breath.
Shemaiah’s made it more than clear he doesn’t believe in love.
And I’m not sure Jafeth would recognize true love if it bit him in the backside.
He’s a cat playing with his food. I won’t put my hope in something as futile as one of them falling in love with me.
But I’m not above using them for my own ends.
I just want to get my son, spend what time I can with him, and convince the Roans to finance his education so he can have a better life when I’m gone.
Hoping for something more than that would be handing out ammunition for a wounded heart.
“Don’t worry, Shem. I can keep you company.” Anna rests her hand on top of Shemaiah’s.
He extricates himself by reaching for his wineglass.
The man is an expert at casual avoidance, the kind that doesn’t rock the boat or make a scene.
His gaze catches on mine again, and the slightest smirk graces his full lips, a subtle sign he recognizes I know exactly how intentional his movement was.
I know he’s Mavarri. I know he’s dangerous, that he needs blood at least once a month to sustain his life.
But I also see the quiet way he moves through the world, his determination to stay invisible.
If Ruby is the heart, Jafeth is the mouth, and Noah is the brain, then Shemaiah is the spine holding them all together.
I don’t know yet how Zarah fits. Perhaps I never will, considering how short my time here will be.