Because those arms. Those hands.That hair.
Her chest moved in small, rapid breaths. Her brain refused to comprehend the disaster in front of her.
She kept waiting for the sight to disappear like it was some hallucination of the House. It didn’t.
That was her sister fondling a legend in the doorway.
With bloodshot, smoked-out eyes and silver hair, Beatriz Parker dragged her lips possessively up the Doorman’s neck. Elysia forced her face to remain impassive, imperious even.The gods must truly hate me.
Beatriz looked out through the clouds of her eyes. “Show your token or get out.” She stuck her face back into the crevice of the Doorman’s neck, murmuring something that no doubt would have made Elysia blush to the higher realms. But then her head shot back up, her brows jamming together like they just might stick.
“Mother?” Disbelief broke through the drugs.
The Doorman let her head loll to the side, her large curved eyes unblinking and showing only the faintest sign of amusement. Her small hand brushed up against Beatriz’s face. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”
Beatriz appeared to be broken, mouth agape and red eyes staring.
Elysia had been training her whole life for this moment. Chin level and voice curt, she stared at her sister like she was both unsurprised and unimpressed.
She took a step that had Beatriz straightening like a child. “You’re slouching. Skip one more meeting and I’ll have you escorted into the castle from whatever infested hole they find you in.” Then she whipped a handkerchief out of her skirt pocket and began rubbing it vigorously against the smudge of wine-dark lipstick bruising the Doorman’s neck. She tucked the handkerchief away and nodded. “There. You’re welcome.”She’s lucky I didn’t lick it.
The Doorman reared back, clearly unused to Georgia Parker’spolishing. Elysia watched her hazy facade flicker, a vicious light stealing through her dark eyes. But then her face became a dream once again. Her hand dropped away from her neck and reached out expectantly. “Your token, Mrs. Parker?”
Elysia uncurled her fingers, revealing the burnished silver hair pin in the palm of her hand.
The Doorman’s eyes narrowed briefly, but then she shrugged and stepped aside. “The House Gardenia welcomes you.”
Elysia nodded, sweeping past the myth that was the Doorman and ignoring Beatriz as if she were nothing. Five steps in and she almost stumbled. The part of her that could feel the very pulse of a secret, yanked on her like there was a leash between her and the Doorman. An invisible tether drew her eyes and feet back to where she had just come from. She refused to turn her head. Gliding onward, she ignored the burn within her that demanded to be fed. Farther and farther she moved from the Doorman and her sister’s heavily lidded stare. They were the last two people she should be near in this House.
But gods, she wanted toknow. Her eyes darted back.No, I can’t, I can’t.The feeling was enthralling. The desire to know, to seek, to find.
The magic addled her thoughts, coaxing her to do what was natural. To find out how this soft, beguiling creature had become the Doorman. The Doorman who knew every token ever given. The Doorman who, it was said, could break men like twigs between her hands.
People whispered that she was beholden to another. That she was chained to some power beyond her, doing the bidding of a hidden master. Whoever the Doorman worked for—their power rippled through this House in spades. The threads that had called to Elysia since birth beckoned her closer, begging her to dive headfirst into the dark pool of secrets surrounding the Doorman’s dainty feet.
Elysia rolled her shoulders, breaking the spell. That wasn’t what she came here for. The House and its mysteries needed to wait.You need to focus.This evening was going to be a far greater challenge than she had imagined. The wisp of a secret tickled her nose as a woman grazed past and she almost groaned.
This place was a death trap.
Eyes searching, she slipped into a dark jungle of fake trees and plants. Kavians loved using them as decoration. And itwasstunning. The textured layers of leaves and branches created a mysterious thicket you could barely see through. The walls dripped a deep sanguine color, and warm mood lighting kept all the lies hidden.
It was stunning, but it set her teeth on edge.One room into the House and something about this place was already irking her. She thought she would love it here, but she was finding the illusion tasted sour in her mouth.
Running her fingers over a bunch of leaves, they came away with a sticky coating of dust and soot from poorly trimmed lamps.She could barely take a step without a fake leaf hitting her in the face. If the plants werereal, then this room would bea masterpiece. A living piece of art that breathed and smelled so good that one’s lungs grew bigger. Instead, its falsity felt like a warning. A rolling wave of dread and unease passed through her.
Secrets were true.So why did everything in here feel like a lie?
There was a muscular, dark-haired man who wore a suit that had been tailored to perfection. Small gold hoops lined one ear, marking him as staff. He leaned over a woman, whispering hateful things down into her mouth. Soon she dropped to her knees, apologizing over and over, for what Elysia didn’t know. Her body went limp, sagging over his feet, gripping his trousers with desperate hands. Elysia shook her head at the sight. Humiliation was one drug she couldn’t understand.To each their own.
She imagined that if she ever got a true invite to the House that there would be a room with a line of people who one by one poured out their confessions while she devoured what they gave. She wondered if there was a limit to what she could consume. Ugly, beautiful. She didn’t care. She’d never been in a position toindulge. But here? The temptation grew stronger by the minute.
She exited the jungle and entered a sitting room where the gentlefolk of the House carried silver platters and fluted drinks. Sweet smells of honey and pastries chased away the forbidden air of the last room, enveloping her now in a sugared fog. Trays floated past with powders and vials and leaves meant for smoking. In the center of the room was a massive divan, ridiculous in its size. And sprawled out on the enormous bed-sized cushion was a cluster of women. Feeding each other, gazing deep into the other’s eyes, giggling and touching. It was a candy heaven made flesh.
She felt herself drifting, her feet following the rhythm and pull she’d held closer than anything all these years. The sound of secrets never left her, and she doubted it ever would. Thebeat became a steady rousing thing that vibrated in her chest and brought a rush of color to her cheeks. Elysia was quickly realizing how easy it would be to simply wander room to room, acting as a voyeur upon other people’s fantasies. Judging and enjoying. But between the dwindling effects of the pukeweed and the constant coursing murmur of secrets racing through the smoke-laden air, she found her stamina lacking. Her body wanted to bend. Her mind wanted to mellow. She wished to sink like a pebble to the bottom of the ocean and watch the secrets go past. There was a reason she’d never stepped through these doors before.
Following the siren call of just one secret was enough to dim her logic and send her tumbling through basement windows and dark lit alleys. A building built and thriving on the blood and bones of secrets? It was a slaughtering to her senses that she was in no way prepared to fend off.
She was close to whatever it was. So close.
