Innocently Evil (A Kitty Bloom Novel)

by Beadsmoore, Felicity

  “Don’t go to Welcome Ball tomorrow night,” Sam said, quietly.

  Surprised by his request, I stared up into his serious expression and couldn’t deny how much the worry in his eyes tore sharply into my heart. “Why,” I found myself having to ask, even though I thought I knew the answer.

  “It’s a trap, Kitty,” Sam sighed. “And I know you think it is, too. Please, just promise me you won’t go.” Sam’s gentle eyes pleaded with me for the answer he so desperately desired, but it was already too late. I’d promised someone else the opposite.

  I frowned at him and took a little step back out from his embrace until I felt his arms fall from behind my back. “I can’t promise that,” I said, unhappily. “I promised my mum that I would go and there is no way I am letting her go alone.”

  Sam’s expression hardened and his eyebrows drew tightly together. If it wasn’t for the sharp, glittering fear in his deep, violet eyes, I would have thought he was angry at me. But, I knew better. I reached a hand out to him and rested it softly against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat racing beneath my fingertips, a product of the adrenalin pumping fear fuelling his overactive imagination. Almost instantly, Sam’s right hand covered mine and gripped it tightly where I held it against his chest. His face softened slightly at my touch, but his rapid heartbeat didn’t subside.

  “I’ll be fine,” I whispered, smiling reassuringly, even though I knew it was probably a lie.

  Sam mimicked my smile and shook his head. “You won’t,” he said, in an agonizingly unhappy voice that was in complete contrast to his smiling face.

  Then, almost as soon as he had finished his quick little statement, his fake smile was gone and replaced by a disapprovingly forlorn pout.

  I frowned grumpily at his decisively negative response, even though I somewhat agreed with him, and couldn’t stop myself from arguing. “I might be fine,” I said defiantly. “Besides, I’ll have you there to protect me, won’t I? I fancy you look pretty decent in a tux.”

  I smirked, trying to improve his mood with a little poor humor and take his mind off the serious danger that I knew I was willingly getting myself into.

  “This is not a joke, Kitty,” he said, his face turning sullen.

  Feeling a little scolded, I tried to pull my hand out from beneath his, but he held it firmly.

  “I mean it,” he said, more gently, as he gripped my hand tighter. “And what happens if I’m not there to protect you?”

  I was just about to try and yank my hand away from his once more, when the realization of what he’d just said hit me. I immediately stopped and looked up at him in disbelief. “What do you mean if you’re not there? Why wouldn’t you be there? Why wouldn’t you come with me?”

  Sam clenched his jaw as he looked into my eyes. I was sure he’d seen the rejection I’d instinctively felt and the fear of having to face the night of horrors alone flash across my face.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said, talking quickly and taking a small step closer. “But that it would be safer for you if I wasn’t there.”

  I stared at him unable to hide the fact that his comment had left me completely dumbstruck. “Safer for me,” I asked in awe. “How could that possibly be safer for me?”

  I tried once more to pull my hand from his, when Sam abruptly released it. He took a small step back from me and wouldn’t look me in the eyes. He appeared ashamed, but seemed stubborn enough to stand by what he’d said.

  Sam crossed his arms over his chest and even though his head remained high, he focused his attention on the ground. “Trust me, it’s better for the both of us if I don’t formally attend,” he said, his voice going an octave deeper, like that of a parent’s voice talking to a disobedient child.

  Unconsciously, I took a step back from him and crossed my arms protectively over my chest in an almost mirror image of his defensive stance. “Why,” I said again, my voice turning flat, but agitated as I demanded an answer.

  Sam looked up at me for a second, his eyes thoughtful and pained and then returned his eyes to the ground. He raised one hand to his head, while the other stayed tightly wrapped across his chest and he pressed his fingertips to his forehead.

  After a tense moment, he shook his head and dropped his hand. “You have no idea,” he began, finally lifting his eyes to mine once more, “how dangerous it would be for a servant of light to enter the home of a dark leader, uninvited and on the arm of the leader’s intended new subject. There are rules, Kitty and although I don’t like them, I still have to obey them or risk getting you killed.”

  Sam’s face was serious and fierce, but his voice betrayed his fear and I was sure he was only trying to scare me into not going. So, still feeling insolent and ignoring his sharp stare, I felt my hands gravitate to my hips and I thrust out my chin at him.

  “I can take care of myself,” I said, in a slightly more teenage tantrum-throwing voice than I would have liked. I stared at him, my head tilted to the side and my lips pursed tight as I waited for a response.

  Sam’s expression remained gruff and aggravated as he watched me and a part of me took pleasure in finally making him a little angry. “You are in no way prepared to deal with a three hundred year old vampire, his two hundred year old vampire son and a room full of his evil, bloodthirsty cronies,” Sam said, clearly frustrated with me now.

  “I took you down, didn’t I,” I asked, my voice still sounding like a bitchy teenager from a cheerleading movie.

  Sam’s face contorted into a look of disbelief and slight amusement as he shook his head lightly from side to side. “Kitty,” he said, now almost smiling in sympathetic shock. “We have no idea whether the skills you proved you can use today even work on the other side. Sure you took me down, but was that because your skills were taken from the dark side of you, the side against me, or not? What if they don’t work as easily against the other side? What if the other half of you doesn’t want to fight against the side she’s on and makes it harder for you to use her skills around them? Then what will you do? Face it, Kitty; you’re not prepared to fight a whole room of bad guys just yet, okay? So, please promise me you won’t go tomorrow night. It’s for the best.”

  I stared up at Sam, unable to hide the fact that I was a little shocked by his comments. I had, unfortunately just for a moment, considered myself indestructible. I had thought that no one, expect maybe a god or goddess, could have taken me down. After all I had managed to beat the daylights out of an angel, so I assumed I was just being rational in thinking that my skill was way above average. But from what Sam had just said, I realized that I was far, far from it. Above average my ass, I was now back down to less than mediocre and that hurt my self-confidence just a bit.

  I glared at Sam, who was still waiting for me to give him a positive answer that I wouldn’t go to the Tiennan’s Welcome Ball, and I couldn’t help but smile. I wasn’t sure whether it was the shock of it all or just the fact that I was now willingly going to put myself into a dangerous situation, without backup or without the self-assurance that I’d be able to kick a little evil butt if necessary. Either way, I just found myself having to smile. It was a crazy situation I was getting myself into, and I was doing it by choice.

  I shook my head and raised my eyebrows just a bit as I smiled at Sam. “No,” I said, firmly. “I can’t promise you that.”

  Sam’s jaw dropped at my answer and it was clear to see that he’d been sure I would have agreed with his sensible arguments. His arms dropped loosely from where they had been held tightly across his chest and he went to move a hand out to me.

  I took a step back from him, out of his reach and I frowned apologetically. “I should be getting home,” I muttered weakly, as I stared at the rejection filling his eyes. “I—I’ll see you later.”

  Then, doing the only thing I could think of in the awkward situation, I spun around and began walking across the courtyard towards the intricate alleyways that would lead me home. My chest grew tight and I felt my e
yes burn with cruel tears. I had wanted to tell Sam yes, but there was no way that I could abandon my mum and he needed to understand that.

  I had also desperately wanted to heal the rejection I’d seen in his beautiful eyes, but I was sure that if I had, the question would have gone full circle and I would’ve been told to choose again. Although I knew I’d made the right decision, especially where my mum was concerned, I also knew the reality of my decision. I would be the weak and innocent little kitten in distress as I entered the lair of the vampires. I knew I didn’t stand a chance and there was nothing I could do about it. It was my choice and my problem and I had just run away from the only person who could help me. What was I doing?

  Fifteen: Asking for Trouble

  I reached the crimson door of my house as the sun finally set and the last warm colors of day were melding with the cool, bluish-black of night. Still deep in thought as I went for the handle, I jolted back to consciousness when I found that the door was locked. A mild freak-out ensued until I noticed a dark envelope pinned to the front door at perfect eye level. Had I been sensible enough to have focused on my surroundings when I’d arrived I would have seen it. I snatched it from the door and immediately felt the weight of a key inside.

  As we had only just moved there was still only the one key between us and stupidly, unlike most of the other times we’d moved, we hadn’t worked out a system of what to do with the key when both of us were out. Usually it was hidden under a doormat or on top of the door frame. I found it odd to have received it in a clearly obvious envelope. However, I was nonetheless overwhelmingly grateful for receiving it at all. I hadn’t wanted to wait out in the dark until Mum had come back from wherever it was she’d gone.

  The light of day had almost completely dissolved into the darkness of night as I flipped the envelope over and shook the key free. It landed heavily on my palm as a shiver crept up my spine. It was a large, ancient, brass key that appeared to be very similar to the ones I’d seen in medieval movies. It was the type of key that would be strung on a large metal circle with five or more matching keys and then attached to the belt of a jailer.

  I shook my head at the thought, dismissing it and then looked around into the shadows. Goosebumps covered my arms and legs and I couldn’t seem to understand why. I couldn’t see anything in the darkness, but something was making me nervous and making my heart pound. All I seemed to want to do was run. I ignored the feeling as I focused my attention on the door and tried hard not to think about the eyes I could feel watching me from the shadows.

  I slipped the key into the lock without further hesitation and waited until I heard a faint click, then I went for the handle again and quickly opened the door. With the envelope in hand I ducked inside and slammed the door shut behind me. I switched on the lights and locked the deadbolt, then stepped away from the door, feeling a little safer.

  After a moment’s pause, while I stared at the door and held my breath just waiting for something to happen, I realized that nothing was going to happen and took a deep breath in. I walked further inside and went into the kitchen. Bravely, I closed all the curtains in the room until I was sure that no one outside had a clear view of me inside. Then, I sat down at the table. I placed the key in front of me and then stuck a finger inside the envelope again, searching in case there had been more than just a key inside. I caught hold of a folded sheet of paper and pulled it out. The paper was black, like the envelope, and although the handwriting inside appeared familiar at first I still couldn’t place it, until I saw who had signed it. My mum. Her writing was erratic as I tried to follow it over the page. I even wondered for a moment whether it might not be hers. It almost looked as though it had been written for her by somebody else. But the curls on her ‘Rs’ and the little lines above her ‘Is’ were unquestionably hers.

  ‘Hi, Kitten,’ it read in a messy, silver scribble. ‘I’ve gone out. I hope you haven’t forgotten about tomorrow night. A messenger from the patron of Saint Jean delivered a package for you this afternoon. I didn’t open it, I swear. I left it in your bedroom. Hope you’ve had a good day. Love Mum.’

  I read the letter through twice more and felt a little uneasy. It seemed oddly short and sweet to be a letter from my mum. She usually writes in so much more detail, telling me where she’s gone and why and for how long, and what she expects from me in the meantime. I was quite surprised and suspicious that that was it. I checked the envelope again in case I’d missed something else inside, but found nothing more. I ignored my newly suspicious nature and told myself that I was just overreacting. Mum was fine, only coming home after dark, nothing she had never done before. But for obvious reasons, this time seemed more dangerous than the times before and I hoped that she was going to be okay.

  With an uneasy sigh, I made a practical, but also dangerous mental note, reminding myself to unlock the deadbolt before going upstairs for a shower. No matter how afraid I’d been a few moments before, standing alone outside in the dark, I knew it would be safer for Mum to be able to get inside as soon as she arrived home. I didn’t have any intention of making her wait for me to get out of the shower and run downstairs to let her in. My mind was full of nightmarish scenarios of what could happen in the meantime. I knew that I was probably jeopardizing my own safety by doing it, but I also knew how I’d feel if our roles were reversed. Besides I could always lock the internal doors inside, like the bathroom and bedroom doors. That had to make things a little safer.

  I read the note a final time, then folded it and placed it back inside its envelope and left it on the kitchen table. I still couldn’t seem to get my head around the fact that my mum had gone out into the city alone at night. I rose from my seat and went to the pantry. I snatched a chocolate chip biscuit from the cookie jar I didn’t even know we had and, after unlocking the deadbolt, I made my way upstairs. I turned on all the lights I could find as I went from the top of the stairs down the hallway to my bedroom, nibbling at the biscuit as I walked. I’d also left the lights on downstairs but couldn’t pretend that I felt much better with as many lights on as possible. Suddenly I realized that I was doing what my mum had a habit of doing every night. Apart from the last few nights in Saint Jean, there had never been a night when she didn’t have all the lights in the house on. She even used to keep a couple on while we slept. Again, I couldn’t deny how strange it was for her to go out at night into the darkness that I thought, no I knew, she hated.

  As I stepped inside my bedroom, I put the final piece of biscuit in my mouth and flicked the light switch next to me. I relaxed a little in its bright light, but my eyes anxiously checked the window to my right and once I confirmed that it was closed, I seemed to breathe more easily. Then, as my eyes wandered back over my room, I saw the package my mum had mentioned in her note, placed neatly on my bed. It was a large, rectangular, scarlet-colored garment box, tied at the top with a thick, black ribbon. I didn’t know what to expect inside of it, and while part of me cringed at the very thought of receiving a gift from Max or his father, the other half of me was desperate to find out what it was.

  I sat lightly on the bed beside the box, barely touching it I pinched a corner of the ribbon and pulled. The bow undid quietly and the ribbon fell into a loose knot. Gently and trying hard to touch only the smallest part of the ribbon or the box at any time in case it bit me, I undid the knot and opened the box’s lid.

  Inside, under a layer of thick, black tissue paper, was a blood-red colored piece of folded silk. Unable to stop myself at the sight of it, I dipped my hands inside the box and under the soft, crimson silk and lifted the garment out. Letting the skirt of it drop to the floor, I stared astonished at the beauty of the gown I held in my hands. It was elegant and seductive and mind numbingly beautiful and I found myself unable to put it down.

  After a minute or an hour or more of staring at the most captivating dress I’d ever seen, I managed to pull my eyes away long enough to notice a tiny black and gold piece of card on top of the tissue paper at t
he bottom of the box. Reluctantly, I took one hand off the dress, but still held it tightly in the other, and picked up the card. Four words wove over the blackness of the card like gold silk. ‘Wear me tomorrow night’, they said.

  With the card read, my fascination of the dress resumed and it wasn’t until a loud creaking noise downstairs startled me from my trance that I actually put the dress back down into its box. The world had been so silent only moments before, just a clear, ringing, ear-piercing silence like the constant drone of white noise on a non-existent channel on television. I couldn’t even remember hearing the nocturnal noises of the night that seemed to float through the streets of Saint Jean as night animals scurried around or called to each other in the dark.

  I raised my hand to my face and rubbed my fingers gently over my eyes as I tried to distinguish how much time had passed between when I’d arrived home and now. I shook my head and let my hand fall, then stood up with a solution in mind and began searching my belongings for a watch. After unsuccessfully rummaging in one bag, I left it and took a step towards one of the large, brown boxes. A floorboard creaked beneath my weight and initially I didn’t give it much thought, until I heard a second creaking noise from downstairs.

  I paused in mid-motion and listened carefully in the remaining silence. Seconds passed and the silence seemed to thicken and become loud in its own right. I could feel my heart beating aggressively in my chest and although I was trying hard to calm it and to tell myself that everything was fine, my fear just didn’t believe me.

  I took a deep but silent breath and reminded myself that old buildings tend to creak by themselves and that it was not an odd occurrence for them to creak or crack or rattle in the night. Another deep breath and a repeat of the mantra that everything was fine seemed to make a little improvement in my frozen limbs and before long I was considering taking another step towards the box and continuing my search for a watch. But as I lifted my foot from the creaking floorboard, I heard a heavy footstep hit the stairs.