“That option makes him a killing machine again. That’s what he’s trying to get away from,” Stella says.
“True, but it would end the years of control and death. If I kill Callum, Lucien will cast the spell on Aurora, and not only will I be free, but so will Violet.” Cyrus moves back toward the tree.
“You can’t risk your life for me,” I say, feeling tears fill my eyes. “I’m not worth that.”
Long fingers rub my cheek. “You are worth more than you know.”
Simon clears his throat. “We’re staying?” he asks.
Cyrus nods. “Looks that way.”
The four of us make our way back to the front door. Simon raises his hand to knock just as the door opens. “What is the verdict?” Lucien asks. He’s wearing a dinner jacket, dress pants, and smoking a long pipe.
“I’ll do what you want on one condition,” Cyrus says. “If Aurora discovers our whereabouts before Callum’s death,youwill be next.”
“I admire your virility, Mr. Knight.” He opens thedoors wide. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing your rooms.” He motions upstairs. “Gentlemen are in the first room on the right, while the ladies are in the first room on the left.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Those assignments are subject to change at will.”
“Thank you,” Cyrus says, as the four of us climb toward our rooms.
“Dinner will be served in an hour,” Lucien announces. “You’ll find appropriate attire in your rooms.”
SEVENTEEN
i don’t want to be a vampire anymore…
Stella stepsinside our room with me on her heels. The room at Cyrus’s home is beautiful, but this is beyond explanation. The ceiling is painted with images of flowers, fairies, and open fields, perfectly framed by gold-leaf crown molding. The wallpaper is a mixture of blues and greens that accent the colors in the ceiling.
“Holy shit,” Stella whispers as we close the door behind us. I don’t know when the switch happened, but it’s been several hours since she last rolled her eyes at me. I try not to focus on her energy and, instead, enjoy the room.
“I agree.” I move toward one of the matching double beds and rub my hand against the pale-blue velvet covering. The fabric is high quality and softer than anything I had growing up. Heavy wooden chests sit close to each bed. Each boasts hand-carved replicasof lions and elephants. The artistry reminds me of items I’ve seen in a museum.
“Open your wardrobe,” Stella says, standing in front of the one next to her bed. She pulls out a beautiful teal-green dress and holds it in front of her. “I’ve never seen a dress this beautiful.” She looks at the tags carefully. “It’s the perfect size. How is that possible?”
“Magic,” I answer, pretending that magic is something normal to me. Copying her movements, I find similar items in the wardrobe opposite hers. The dresses inside aren’t quite as flashy as Stella’s and are a mixture of soft pastels and current couture. They look straight off the runway in Europe. I run my fingers over the supple fabric, stopping on the label. I read it twice, making sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me. “Oh, my goodness. These are from France.”
“Seriously? Maybe we can keep them…or at least one.” Her voice sounds giddy.
“I doubt it. They’ll probably disintegrate or something,” I scoff. “I don’t know about you, but I need to clean up a bit. I feel like a mixture of sand, dirt, and onions.” Stella laughs as I open a door to what I hope is the bathroom. Thankfully, I’m right. I’m met with a room nearly as elaborate as the bedroom. A fully stocked claw-foot tub and shower sit in the back corner of the room. Black and white marble tiles line the floors and bottom of the walls, topped with ornate black and white wallpaper boasting oversized birds and trees. In anormal house, it would be bold and overpowering. In here, it’s absolute perfection.
The hot water feels amazing on my oversensitive skin. I use every product provided until I begin to feel almost human…almost.
“Your turn,” I announce, exiting the bathroom with nothing more than a towel wrapped around me. I spend the next thirty minutes using the provided makeup and hair tools until the woman staring back at me looks older, wiser, and more stylish than I remember.
“You look beautiful,” Stella says, moving to my side. The bright blue dress she’s wearing is the perfect accent to her tanned skin.
“So do you. That color is perfect for you.” I take an unnecessary breath and realize, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed mundane conversations about clothing and hair. I miss dressing up and pretending to be something I’m not. I’ve spent so much time trying to be a vampire, I’ve forgotten how to be a woman.
“How do we know when it’s time to go downstairs?” she asks, interrupting my thought.
“Something tells me we’ll know.” On cue, a loud siren rings from below, sounding more like an air-raid warning than a dinner announcement, but in the few minutes I’ve known Lucien, I have no doubt what it means. “That was it,” I announce, moving toward the door.
The door across the hall opens at the same time, revealing my buyer. We stare longer than necessary. “You look beautiful, Violet,” he says, breaking the awkward silence.
The smile that covers my face is broader than it should be for the man who plans on selling me. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.” The three-piece suit he’s wearing fits like it was tailor-made for him. The narrow lapelled two-button jacket hugs his thin waist. Bright blue eyes glisten against the dark fabric of his clothes. For the first time, I see Cyrus as something more than my buyer. What am I seeing him as? I clear any thoughts from my mind, focusing on the reason we’re here.
“Thank you,” he answers with a wide smile. “Might I be your escort to the air-raid shelter?” He holds his arm toward me. My laugh echoes off the wooden walls.
“Why, thank you, sir. I’d like that very much.” I use my best Southern drawl and wrap my arm through his, allowing him to lead me down the stairs.
