4. Luna
LUNA
Debussy’s Clair de Lune drifts through the entryway to my father’s study, its hypnotic piano notes texturized by a subtle rustling that give old vinyls their charm.
My skin flushes while my stomach flips, though I can hardly explain why the melody unsettles me. I don’t like it. I’ve never liked it.
Neither Father nor his companion, Persephone, look up as I enter. Their noses kiss as Father whispers something, making Persephone’s full, pink lips twitch. Her bronzed cheeks are flushed, but I imagine that has more to do with the forbidden liquor balanced on her knee than embarrassment or lust.
My eyes find his hand on her knee, the white material of her dress hiked. It makes me feel something, but I can’t say what. A tingle runs over my spine. My lungs feel smaller.
I cup my hands in front of me and lift my eyes just above their heads before clearing my throat.
Persephone startles in my periphery, her knee jumping so forcefully, brown liquor splashes. She throws black curly hair over her shoulder before rubbing nervously at the stain. Soft, underdeveloped breasts bounce without support.
I don’t meet Father’s glare, but I can feel it.
“What?” he snaps.
“I was told you wanted to see me.”
“That was hours ago.”
My eyes lower to his. “I apologize, sir… I spent the evening looking after the Dreg. His condition was worse than I’d hoped.”
Father rips the glass from Persephone’s hands before bringing it to his mouth. “Good.” He pours the poison down his throat while his words play in my head.
If we are to be warriors, our bodies are to be strong. We must never compromise our strength.
Unless we’re in the study. Apparently.
He wipes his lip before slamming the glass on the side table holding the record player. Careless—more than I’ve ever seen him around his prized possession. He must already be drunk.
“I heard there’s a new prospective initiate… A lawyer, is it?”
“Criminal defense attorney, yes… He’s interested in initiating as a Nurturer. His family was involved in a tragic accident last—”
“Assets?”
My mouth closes as I shift my weight. “Debt, actually. One hundred twenty-three thousand dollars in student loans.”
Father’s eyes constrict. “Is he a new lawyer?”
“He’s been a public defender for the last decade. But he’s Ivy League educated with extensive knowledge in—”
“No.”
“Father, if you’ll let me finish...”
“Finish?” His brows shoot up as he scoffs. “So you can waste more of my time?” He turns to Persephone as if sharing a joke between the two of them—the joke being me. Persephone just blushes and stares at her knees.
Father sighs. “The collective is only as strong as its weakest member, Luna. Those who carry in burdens become burdens themselves, but time after time, you come to me with these—”
“Educated, emotionally intelligent men with knowledge and skill sets we’re not only lacking, but have no resources to acquire.”
His wide eyes pin me with a vicious warning that once would have made me cower. Even now, I’m not immune. My gut churns at the scent of wood polish as I breathe it in, my arms bubbling with goose pimples.
Father says nothing. He doesn’t have to. He shouldn’t have to.
I understand. The initiates most appealing are the ones who add to our wealth. It’s unfortunate that too often the wealthy men come with the least admirable intentions. They know they’re buying their way in, and it isn’t our organic food or communal living that appeals to them.
My gaze wanders to Persephone while I settle my emotions.
I’ve spent days focused on the lawyer, but the wasted time is no one's fault but my own. I knew Father wouldn’t go for it.
And yet, I try.
“You’re right. Forgive me, Chief Elder… The next prospect I bring to your attention will please you. You have my word.”
Moments tick by under his unyielding death stare until, at last, the tension fractures with a long, low sigh, rough as it slips through his flaring nostrils. “Good. Now leave us.”
I turn without another word and stride from the study, my gait even and confident until I’m sure they can no longer hear me.
I turn the corner and press my back up against the wall. My eyes close. I don’t know what it is about seeing them together, but I can never run away fast enough.
And at the same time, it feels wrong to leave.