Sharp teeth sank into my neck, and I flinched, digging my nails into Silas’s arm that was wrapped around my waist.
“Ouch, Sil—” He bit harder, and I yelped.
He fed more aggressively, his other hand possessively tangling in my hair, pulling my head to the side so he could have better access. It prompted a whimper from me, and my body stopped shaking, his venom calming my electric nerves. He must have sensed my panic, fearing I would make a scene.
He let go of my neck and lapped at the spot. “Let me know when you’ve had enough.”
THE CREATURE
One day,maybe I would understand why she did this to herself.
She looked like she was on the brink of either passing out or throwing up, and for once, it was in spite of my toying with her.
My arm held her up as her breathing steadied. She had to look at that abomination on the floor below us to prove a point to herself. There was no doubt that she would use this to fuel her vendetta against anything she found unjust.
The more I learned about her, the more I realized she thought she could save the world. Her rigid routine and pious beliefs were to torment herself as punishment for not doing more, for not knowing better.
Someday she would learn that no matter what she did, she could not save every fawn, and she could not smite the wolf for eating. Whether she liked it or not, it was the other side of the natural order that she held so dear.
I licked my lips and wiped away the remaining taste of her. It seemed to have calmed her, but I could see in her far-off gaze that it would not be enough to pull her from this spiral.
“Let me know when you’ve had enough,” I said cautiously.
“It will never be enough.” Her words were barely above a whisper. “Nothing I do will be enough.”
I glanced at the scene below being cleaned up, the body being scraped off the wooden floor. The blood added a slick gloss to the dark stain of the wood.
“Then you have your answer.” I sighed, scooping her into my arms and walking toward the back entrance. Her head rested on my chest, not one sound from her. I had hoped that allowing her to sneak away and see this place would discourage her from taking on these excursions alone, but it might have done much worse than I intended.
42
THE POISONER
Ididn’t remember the last time I ate.
After a few days of testing the venom on myself, I noticed my appetite shrinking. It was like the disappointment of returning to reality made me feel like doing anything was useless. Nothing was ever satisfying enough.
On the bright side, my skin was soft, my body more rested, and the aches and pains had dissipated. This could be used in so many wonderful ways, and it motivated me to keep going. How ironic that a creature so vile could produce something that could ease the pain of others.
I could resume special orders to existing clients soon. Overall, things seemed to be calming in my life again.
Even the wallpaper became more interesting every time I was supposed to be doing something else, such as getting a good night’s rest. Every time I tried to sleep, I found myself jotting down notes in the dreams themselves only to wake up quickly and write those thoughts down before they evaporated.
There was no telling how many nights I had spent at Silas’sestate. Losing track of days was an unfortunate side effect of the venom in such a concentrated form. Even with this slight disadvantage, what a relief it was to feel removed from my body, as passive as flowing water in a river.
A walk around Silas’s garden was the best way I could manage my unrest. The cold air brushed at my skin and pinched my face. Midnight dew seeped into the fabric of my gown, and my hands could not find anything to do except pick at my nails. The garden was barren of any flowers by now, but the greenery still provided a comforting shadow to hide under. With the witching hour upon me, I accepted that sleep would not visit me anytime soon.
A crackling of the phonograph cut through the air, and the soft hum of a waltz was heard from the living room window. When I turned, the window was illuminated—open to let the swell of music float leisurely out into the backyard. The warm glow from the inside lit the grass in a tall window of light stretching out across the grounds. The soft playing of the piano paired with the rising and falling of the waltz pace was so fitting as of late. A dance was the perfect way to describe it.
A hand smoothed along my waist, and my Creature circled around me.
Silas’s hand brushed against my cheek, his thumb smoothing over my skin. His eyes were soft, a calm about them that reminded me of the forest before a heavy rain—a stillness that was serene, but a warning to those who knew what it meant.
I leaned into his hand briefly but slipped away to move around him in return, though he refused to turn his back to me, following my movements.
He stepped closer, touching along the underside of my arm to extend it out, taking my hand gently. His other hand was at my waist.
His hand in mine, our fingers looped together so softly. They fit like pieces that were carved from the same stone. If I had asked myself a few months ago if these hands would be caught being so tender, I would have said that the wool had been pulled over my eyes.
