“Has someone called the police?” Odette whimpered.
“I don’t know,” he whispered.
This angered her, more tears bubbling to the surface. “WILL SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE?! PLEASE! Don’t just gawk!”
She couldn’t believe that she had to beg. She thought that someone would have done it by then … but they didn’t. They all just sat back and watched her house burn like it was a freaking campfire.
Grayson spoke again, softly. It was so soft she almost didn’t hear him at first. “Odette, I don’t think that you should stay here.”
“I can’t,” she sniffed. “I have to be here when they arrive.”
Grayson closed his eyes. “Do you know what they’ll do? They’ll bring you to the police station and then they will ask you about extended family. You will be sent away before we can have a proper goodbye.”
Odette froze, her fingernails digging into her flesh. She couldn’t let that happen. He was all she had left unless her parents were still alive in there somewhere. She didn’t have any extended family, both of her parents were only children and her grandparents had all died. So, what would they do to her? Would they put her into foster care? That future seemed just as bleak. She continued to cry into her knees, the heat stinging her eyes horribly.
Grayson continued talking. “I think it will be best if you just come back to my house for the night. Rest up. We can figure everything else out in the morning. How does that sound?”
It sounded better than any other option that she was given.
“Please,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Grayson helped her stand up and they started to walk back to the Mages’ mansion. It was a depressing walk with the fire crackling mercilessly behind them. The summer air felt like winter compared to what she had just been exposed to. It pinpricked against her face and her arms, the air too clean and breathable. She needed to be choked up; she needed to feel that same pain. It was only fair.
“Odette, you’re shivering,” he pointed out.
Was she? She didn’t know. A cold bath might help. Or … a plunge in the indoor pool. She could see her parents again that way.
What was the last thing she said to them? It was nice, right? All because they had allowed her to go to the stupid pool party to ensure that Grayson wouldn’t cheat. How would her day have been different if she stayed with them? They were talking about going shopping after the pizza place, weren’t they? Maybe all three of them would have missed the start of the fire. Maybe they all would have burned together.
Odette was still crying, the tears wouldn’t stop. They just … fell, silently. She hoped that her parents didn’t feel like she abandoned them … right now, or earlier. Most importantly, she hoped that they had somehow gotten out of the house and found a way to the hospital or somewhere safe.
“Odette … stop.” Grayson’s hand was around her shoulder, the pads of his fingers dipping into her skin. She didn’t know what he meant by “stop.” “This wasn’t your fault, okay? Don’t blame yourself.”
She didn’t respond.
Grayson led her up the front steps to the door and pushed it open. The endless barrage of stairs didn’t bother her, Odette just felt numb. There was a rotting feeling inside of her that was growing, though. The pain would get to be too much and she would break down again. She didn’t know what was worse—feeling that numbness or feeling that the world was closing in on her.
Grayson went to his room first and grabbed a new set of clothing for her, then led her into the bathroom.
“Wash up,” he said. “I’ll be waiting nearby.”
Odette closed the bathroom door and locked it. Her reflection showed nothing but a shell of a girl. She had a soot-covered face and tear tracks from her sobbing. Her brown eye looked sunken in but her blue one was overly bright with her tears.
She longed to punch the mirror and feel it shatter underneath her fist but she knew that, if she wasn’t strong enough to save her parents, she wasn’t strong enough to break a mirror.
Once she got the shower working, she sat in the corner and cried.
XXI
Odette stayed wrapped in Grayson’s arms. They hadn’t moved in hours. She was pretty sure that he was asleep and that she was serving as a human teddy bear. Every time she would shift her weight, he would only hold her tighter or pull her closer. She didn’t care.
It was probably early morning when Odette saw his door opening. It was Thorn; she could recognize his molten silver hair anywhere.
“What are you doing in here?” Odette rasped. Behind her, Grayson shifted in his sleep, his hand seeking hers out.
Thorn’s steps faltered. “W-well, this i-is a dream, m-miss!” He seemed almost cheerful, which was very strange for someone like Thorn.
Odette narrowed her eyes. “Why am I dreaming of you? I don’t remember falling asleep.”
“My m-master asked m-me to h-help y-you. H-he told me to make you … make you dream of h-him.” Thorn motioned to Grayson, who seemed too solid to be a part of some dream. “He said … he said it w-would make yo-you happy.”
She would have sat up if the supposed “dream Grayson” wasn’t holding her down. “You do understand that you can’t just come here, tell me this, and expect me to be fine with it. You can control dreams? I thought you just helped with the show?”
Thorn played with his fingers. “Err …”
Odette pushed him further. “How do I know that I’m not just making this all up in my head? Huh, Thorn? How can you prove it to me?”
She wasn’t in the mood to be nice.
She was much too numb to be nice.
“D-do you remember … the … no, master would … master wouldn’t l-like me reminding you.” Thorn started murmuring to himself. “M-master wasn’t himself … wasn’t himself. He h-hurt the miss.”
Odette squirmed forward as much as she could. “What are you whispering about?”
Thorn sputtered and spun back around. He went over to Grayson’s wall and hit his head on it repeatedly.
“Hey! Don’t do that! Just tell me what you’re talking about. Remind me about what? By ‘master,’ you mean Grayson, right? Why wasn’t he himself? What did he do?” Odette egged him on, straining to get closer to the end of the bed.
Thorn stopped his self-punishment and turned around. For the briefest of seconds, he forgot to lower his head and part of his face was visible. It was puckered and scarred horribly—but only on one side. She had to fight her instincts to not react. There was no telling what the man would do if she did.
“It’s okay, Thorn,” she said softer this time. “I want to know. Tell me, so I know that this isn’t a dream.”
“Do … y-you remember th-the nightmare you had … th-the night you c-came to m-mistress’ sleepover?” he said slowly, inching closer to her side.
Odette paused to reflect. She remembered waking up. Whatever she dreamed about made her run home—she remembered that too. Home, her throat tightened. She pushed past that and furrowed her eyebrows.
Then it came to her. How she “woke up” and walked down the hallway, only to find a hallway that wasn’t the same as the one as she had been in before. There was a door that led her to a dungeon … and in the dungeon was Thorn, who was bloody and beaten. Grayson appeared and then …
Odette clenched her jaw. “Yeah.”
“It wasn’t a—it wasn’t a dream, miss.”
Odette sat bolt upright, clutching the duvet to her chest. Where was she?
Grayson’s room.
The blue walls and the smell of his sheets gave it away. But where was he? Hadn’t he been right beside her? Maybe. The sheets were kind of wrinkled on the side that she wasn’t occupying.
“What a strange dream,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her forehead. It was daytime now, the light was shining through his blinds. Her head ached and it occurred to her that all of her medication had burned in the fire last night. What a pain. Literally.
There was a knock on the door. “Princess?” It was Grayson.
“Yeah?” The door opened soon after and he peeked inside. “You know you don’t have to knock, this is your room.”
He shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you were up. How did you sleep?”
“Fine,” Odette said with a yawn. She laid her head on his shoulder. “I was confused when I woke up, though. I didn’t know where you went.”
“Sorry about that; I had to go deal with people,” he grunted.
She shook her head. “This early in the morning?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Unfortunately. But I’m back. I told Greer I wouldn’t be going to practice today; I have to make sure that you’re okay.”
Odette hated the words that were about to come out of her mouth. She reached for his hands and played with his fingers to distract herself from the thickness forming in her throat. “What … what about the police? Don’t I have to go to them today?”
“Do you want to?” He scooted himself against the headboard and tucked Odette’s head under his chin. His free hand played with the ends of her hair, waiting for her answer.
Odette didn’t know herself. She knew that she should but the thought of never seeing Grayson again terrified her. “I don’t know.”
“We can put it off another day,” Grayson suggested. “Wait until you’ve gathered your bearings.”
“I like that idea,” she muttered into his chest. She liked the shirt he was wearing—even though she was wearing one just like it. It was soft and it didn’t hinder his warmth. “Just another day.”
Despite Grayson’s efforts, Odette felt worse as the day progressed. It wasn’t anything he could help, though—at least, not readily. Missing her dose of medicine had brought on the mind-numbing headaches, and more than once had she nearly fainted on him. She was weak and it would only get worse the longer she was off her medicine.
“You don’t look very well, sweetheart,” Jethro commented that evening. He was in the library, looking for something that probably wasn’t a book.
Grayson stopped reading aloud—Jane Eyre—and regarded his grandfather coldly. “Way to make her feel better. If you want to help, maybe you should go out and get her some medicine instead of hoarding your money.”
Odette held up her hand weakly. “Grayson, its fine. He’s just concerned.”
Jethro rubbed his neck. He left the library—without a book—a quickly as he could.
“Don’t excuse his actions, he’s a miser. He should be helping you instead of hiding in his room and counting his money,” Grayson spat. He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging it softly. “I wish I could help you.”
Odette closed her eyes in an attempt to quell the dizziness that she felt. “You are helping me. You’re taking care of me and comforting me.”
Grayson didn’t reply. His lips were twisted up in a snarl as he stared into the empty fireplace, deep in thought. While the mansion was freezing cold—the library, especially—he was not about to light a fire and cause Odette to have a panic attack.
“My sister will not allow me to skip rehearsal again tomorrow,” he said. “Or the show.”
“That’s okay—”
“So, you will be coming with me.” His tone didn’t leave room for her to question him. She simply had to smile and say yes. “I can’t leave you alone in this house while you’re in this condition.”
Odette opened one of her eyes to look up at him. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to be a distraction.”
“I’ll be more distracted if you aren’t right there where I can see you.” Even though he probably shouldn’t have, he started to stroke her head. It added to the spinning sensations Odette felt but she didn’t dare tell him. “This is the clearest I’ve been able to think in a while with you right next to me.”
She hummed and held on to his pant leg, mentally willing herself to stop feeling everything. At least it was a distraction from the night before. Her hair still smelled like the smoke, something that wouldn’t leave her no matter how many times she washed it with the shampoo.
The back of her eyes burned with more tears. Odette thought she would have run out by now. They were hot, contrasting with her frozen cheeks. She didn’t know if Grayson felt them soaking his leg or not; she might be a little embarrassed if he did.
“Princess?”
Crap. Odette quickly wiped them away but it was a futile attempt. “Sorry.”
Grayson shifted slightly as he reached for something but Odette didn’t move. Something heavy covered her—a blanket in the Mages purple and blue color. “Try to rest. I promise you, you’ll have good dreams.”
That was doubtful. Every dream Odette seemed to have was a bad one. Even now, with everything that’s been going on, it would surely seep into her subconscious and dictate her dreams. When was the last time she had had a truly good dream? It must have been before she came here to Maine. She couldn’t think of one while she was living in Sunwick Grove.
Odette allowed herself to relax, ignoring the pain in her head. It felt like forever until she actually went to sleep. Maybe it was because Grayson kept staring at her.
“You’re here again,” Odette said.
She didn’t know where she was, maybe on the grounds around the mansion. It was sunny, but it wasn’t hot. Perhaps this was what it looked like in the spring time? She was sitting in the shade of a large tree with a white sundress on—which was a really bad idea because she could stain the dress if she wasn’t careful. But it was a dream. Logic didn’t matter.
“Y-yes, miss,” Thorn stammered. He had hid himself behind a tree.
Suddenly, there was a weight on her legs. She looked down to see another “dream Grayson.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t really remember the last time that we talked,” Odette added, stroking “dream Grayson’s” hair absentmindedly. “I just remember that we did. And you told me something.”
Thorn’s head bobbed as he nodded. “Th-that tends to h-happen. This i-is st-still … still a dream, miss. Conversations w-will fade. Don’t worry.”
Odette could spy him through the branches. Why did he try and hide? What was so horrible that he couldn’t come out and face her like a normal person? Hadn’t she seen it all already? Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe there was more to him that he wanted to keep hidden.
“So, why are you here?” she asked him. “I remember you said that you … influenced dreams, right? Is that kind of like hypnotism?”
The scene shifted and, while they were still outdoors, they were now in a garden. Odette sat on a stone bench in front of a small pond with little swans floating inside. The shift made her head swirl uncomfortably but she shook it away. It was only a dream. She couldn’t afford to be dizzy in her dreams like she did in her real life.
Thorn had his back to her. He inspected the flowers that grew on the lush green bushes before him with great interest. “N-not exactly. I-I must enter … enter your mind. I c-can control th-them outside u-u-usually, but I-I must t-talk to-to you, miss.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand. Why not come talk to me in the real world instead of in my head? And how can you even do that? Are you magical like the twins?”
Thorn’s shoulders went rigid. “N-not exactly. I-it is v-very c-complicated … complicated, miss, this family that you have joined. They … they participate in-in very d-dark things. Things that someone … someone as p-p-pure as you sh-should not be n-near to.”
Odette huffed and turned away from the man. Her irritation was reaching its very limit. These people … they would never understand her. “You can’t say cryptic things like that and not expect me to ask more. I’m not ‘pure’ either; no one is ‘pure.’ That means that someone is without sin and that is impossible because we are humans.”
The girl wrapped her hand around the nearest rose and ripped it from its bush. The thorns instantly tore at her skin but the wound did not hurt and the blood dripped down onto the dress. Odette discarded the rose
, not caring for it.
“M-miss, your hand!” Thorn whirled around—as though he sensed it—and rushed to her side. All thoughts of concealing his face flew out the window. Odette was left to see the full horror of it all.
He obviously wasn’t born with it, they were man-made wounds carved into his flesh … even worse, his eye. Memories of seeing it before poured into her head and she shuddered. She pulled her bloody hand from him and forced him to look up at her.
His hair fell away so she could examine the damage. His right eye had it worst—with a long scar running through it. It ran from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his nose. The left side of his face was horribly disfigured. His one good blue eye begged her to let go and filled to the brim with tears.
“Who did this to you?” she breathed, her eyes focused on his one good eye.
Thorn kept his lips sealed. He looked like he was waiting for something … pain, maybe? Did he think she would hit him?
“I’m not going to hurt you, I want to help,” Odette begged, “in any way I can.”
The man shook his head. “You would … would n-n-not understand.”
“Then explain to me. I probably won’t remember this anyway if that’s what you’re worried about. If I do, though, I want to help you.” She wanted to let go of him but she knew that, as soon as she did, he would bolt.
Thorn was wailing, fat tear drops falling from his one good eye. It was pathetic but Odette felt bad for him. “I-I-I … I can’t!”
The girl released his chin with a huff. Her blood covered him like war paint; he, however, didn’t seem to be in a hurry to wipe it away. She wasn’t sure he even knew it was there.
“Fine. Don’t tell me. Keep giving me vague bits of information in hopes that I somehow chain it all together. Do I have to come out and say that I’m a pretty dense person and need you to smack the information full force in my face?” Odette held up her hands. “But if you can’t tell me, that’s fine.”
Thorn seemed so confused. His blubbering had begun to die down, but it became more like a confused crying. Odette wondered if she had actually gotten through him. She could kind of see why Grayson and Greer were so annoyed with him when she first met him. All he did was stutter and cry.
Violent Delights Page 22
