I stared at her. “Really? She seemed quite pleasant.”
She nodded. “That’s because you didn’t immediately profess your love. She hates that. How did you not do that?”
I stared at her. “I’m not the kind of mage who loves. Lucky you. Should I carry you up the stairs? You’re very, very heavy, but standing here with the statue waiting feels a little bit public.”
She pulled me close and brushed her nose with mine. “Did you notice the way they touched each other? She only touches him when other mages are around. We don’t have a lot of other mages visit so it’s noticeable. I’m not sure if he hates it or adores it. Revere always shows exactly what she wants him to show. He can look helplessly devoted to her or indifferent. She owns him. Not the way we own each other, like deep inside his heart and soul, body and will. He’s her Revere, her soldier, her lover. He’s the opposite of my father, who broke her. Revere put her back together. I can’t help but be quite sure that you’re the mage who will break me.” She shrugged. “I don’t really mind. Yes. Carry me up the stairs. Quickly.”
I swept her up and ran up the stairs, four flights of very high ceilinged floors until I reached the top landing. I put her down in front of the small, arched, dark oak door. She grabbed my lapels and kissed me, her lips hard and hungry on mine before she let go and whirled around to her room. She opened the door and walked inside.
I followed, my lips buzzing and my hands trembling. I was prepared for wonderland, a forest of candy canes, a pink cotton candy paradise, everything besides the dark room lit by the low burning fireplace that didn’t take the chill off the space.
Penny rubbed her arms. “I forgot how cold it gets.”
A sudden distant scream made the hairs on my neck rise. “Is that the doorbell?”
She shook her head. “Close the door. That’s Revere putting my mother to bed in the dungeon. Do you scream?”
I closed the door while my heart raced. What was this new game and how could I play it to win? I turned to her with a smile, but she wasn’t looking at me. She’d knelt on the filthy floor, her golden curls around her as she opened the cage that held Señor Mort. She kissed his nose and whispered something too low for me to hear before she released him. He darted into the shadows. I blinked and the room came into focus. Above us ropes hung one to two feet apart, tied to the rafters. Birds nested above us while bats fluttered. It was a very high attic, maybe twenty feet above us to the roofline. The fireplace was massive, old fieldstone that looked made for climbing. It wasn’t black, but gray, everything dusty and worn, uncared for and shabby. I couldn’t reconcile the attic to my witch.
I walked over and picked up the garment bags, running my hands over the covers. “Where shall I hang these? Do you have a closet? I suppose we could tie them.” I glanced up at the ropes.
“I have armoires. Over here. By the bed.” She spoke softly, the words stilted and she glanced at me from beneath her lowered eyelashes.
I followed her to the left beneath the ropes, so many ropes, until I saw the monkey skull bed. “You didn’t say that they were monkey skull candle holders. How charming.” I nodded approvingly. I wasn’t going to object to any bed that had a Penny Lane in it, but the bed looked a hundred years old, the mattress sagging, the black quilt a mess of tears and repairs, that had all sorts of embroidery on it, like she’d practiced on it. Everything looked sad, abandoned, miserable. The armoire when she opened it was filled with black clothing, a few spots of white for contrast. I hung my tuxedo and her dress very carefully while she stood there, waiting.
“Would you give me a tour?” I asked with a gallant smile after I’d settled our clothing together in the armoire. Knowing that my tuxedo was ensconced with her gown made me feel confident enough to take her in my arms and kiss her nose. “I adore your garret. It’s so authentic. Your pet bats and pigeons are the perfect finishing touch. You’ve never looked lovelier.”
She pressed her face against my neck for a moment while her heart pounded against mine. “Aren’t you going to ask where all the pink is?”
“Am I supposed to? You aren’t entirely pink to me. You’re more green and gold, like a fiery autumn forest. This feels like a place you stayed but didn’t live.”
She pulled away and frowned at me. “Of course I lived here. A tour. Right. This is the bed. To our right the chimney. Watch your head. This is my workshop. It’s still dust free. Excellent.”
We’d walked into a space that lit as motion sensors detected us. I winced at the brightness and it took me a second of blinking to make out the tables and shelves that defined the back portion of the attic. It was a very large space, but ropes still dangled above us. “It’s very tidy. How do you keep out the dust?”
“Static energy, mostly. The charges keep moving particles moving until they’re out of my space. That was a fun puzzle.” She walked between the rows of tables, running her hand along the surface with a pleased expression.
“It sounds delightful. So this is where the magic happens. It’s very white.”
The sterile white didn’t match Penny any more than the sad gray and black.
She shrugged. “It seemed practical. It’s not quite, because the light reflects, but it’s adjustable. Well, that’s it.”
I nodded towards the darkness ahead of us on the far side from the bed. “What about that?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “Right. It’s mostly storage, where I keep things I’m not working on currently. It’s a mess. It’s really not what you want to see.”
“Really? It does sound a little bit boring, but you know how I love being bored. Lead on.”
She made a face at me before turning towards the shadows. She grabbed a candle in an old chipped mug and held it out to me. “Light it.”
I was surprised because she shouldn’t need me to work her magic, but maybe it was a manners thing. I bowed slightly and snapped my fingers. Fire flared to life on the candle, the fire golden and beautiful, like her. Nothing like her. She was fire and water, her eyes deepest woods and darkest gold mines. I followed her, inhaling her, the dust on her golden locks that I needed to brush off. Her hips swung tantalizingly ahead of me as she held the candle aloft, her glance at me over her shoulder so beguiling that I almost completely missed the body hanging from the ceiling.
I stopped walking for a moment to stare at it openly. It was clearly a mage in a dark purple suit complete with purple tophat. I looked closer and Penny’s soft hand was on mine, pulling me back.
“Don’t stray off the path, mage,” she whispered.
I glanced at her then towards the body in the shadows. “Is that your handiwork? I love the purple, so royal. Personally I favor the pink you made for me. I hope you keep me in it if you ever kill me and hang me in your attic.”
She blushed so beautifully. “It’s not a real body. I made it. I went through a voodoo phase.”
I stared at her. “I see.” I had no idea. “How did that work for you?”
She shrugged. “It takes more effort to make someone think of you than to simply call them on the phone. That reminds me, I promised to check in with Zach once we got here. Come on.”
I followed slowly, trying to stare at the dangling body and the piles of charred cloaks amidst machinery and other mangled objects that I couldn’t possibly identify. Zach would enjoy wading through that mess. I would too. It was like the garbage dump of Penny’s mind. When we got back to the fireplace, I pulled out my phone.
“The deck roof gets better reception,” she said, heading back towards the bed. I followed, still a bit stunned. The roof was past the armoire where our clothing hung side by side. We walked into shadows I hadn’t examined well enough to see the cracked glass door. Penny pushed it open and stepped out onto the roof, the cold wind swirling around us. She went over to an old chair that looked like it had been left there for years. She sat down, not seeming to notice the state of disrepair. I followed, picked her up and sat down, her balanced on my knees.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking my messages. Sh. Don’t distract me.”
She nudged me with her elbow before focusing on her phone.
I checked my phone and saw a message from Zach.
Your father came by. He seemed surprised to hear that you were getting married today. He seemed to think that he was invited. It seems odd that he’s so interested. What’s wrong with him?
Not exactly ideal.
Penny laughed. “He’s giving me a play-by-play of his video game. Apparently he needs more friends.”
I laughed. Did it sound as forced to her as it did to me? “It would be cruel to inflict him on anyone else.”
I texted back. Is he still there? Who else did he contact?
It took a moment for him to reply, apparently to take a break from his video game dialogue with Penny. He came in but Professor Vale showed up pretty quickly and he left. Didn’t like her much. I don’t think he talked to anyone else.
Good. Be careful with him.
Zach responded immediately. Define careful? I’m a Stoneburrow. Paranoid is part of my DNA. Congratulations on making it to Penny’s mysterious home. You’ve completely fallen off the map. I think it might be between worlds. You’re completely untraceable.
Good. Penny’s room is different than I expected.
Not pink enough for you?
Lots of dust. Bodies hanging from the ceiling. Piles of mysterious objects beneath the eaves, a monkey skull bed.
Sounds comfy.
I leaned back in the musty smelling and damp overstuffed chair, staring up at the stars through the crisp, cold night. Comfy might not be exactly the word, but it was something very appealing. I slid my hand over Penny’s stomach and inhaled deeply, the scent of dust and strawberry shampoo positively dizzying. I nuzzled her ear. “I love the view.”
She sighed and relaxed against me. “It’s nice. In the dark the world could be perfectly beautiful just out of sight.”
“Or perfectly beautiful in sight. You are beautiful. Your world is enchanting.”
“You like dust and bats?”
“Very much, but not nearly as much as I like you. Ah, Penny Lane, I could spend every night on this roof with you, overlooking a sea of stars, the wind cold, you warm, the world utterly perfect. I will do my best to be your Revere. I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I adore it when you’re happy. I adore it when you’re unhappy as well. If you’d rather be miserable, I’m content with that. I’m so bewilderingly content.”
She turned her head and nuzzled my neck. “You’re such a strange mage. That must be why I love you so much.”
“In that case, I’ll try to be as strange as possible.”
I held her in my arms for a long time, warming up so I could keep her from freezing, but it was too cold and her arms were bare. I stood up and carried her inside. She blinked up at me sleepily.
“Where are we going?”
“Bed. We have an early morning ceremony to attend, or have you forgotten? I adore your bed. It’s remarkably grotesque. They look like real monkeys.” I set her carefully down on the black quilt and took a moment to run my hands through her hair. “I’m going to change with your voodoo friend. I brought a pair of very warm pajamas. Do you dress slowly or quickly? I’d hate to surprise you.”
She inhaled and glanced down at my chest. “I’ll be quick.”
I pressed a kiss to her forehead and turned, marching decisively towards my bag. This was not the time to show her my pink boxers. Probably. In the shadows beneath the purple suited mage who hung like an authentic dead body, I quickly changed, jumping when a mouse scurried by my bare foot. A moment later there was a little mouse scream and the crack of bones. “Señor Mort?” I stared into the shadows until I saw a flash of eyes before they vanished. Her house really was like a horror movie. Odd that she got so freaked out by them. I shook my head and stripped down, careful to keep my mage jacket out of the dust. Finally, I was pajamaed and barefoot. My phone buzzed a text message.
I almost didn’t check it, but I might have dressed a little too quickly. I’d hate to surprise Penny. No, I’d love to surprise her. I could climb up in the ropes and watch her dress. If only I’d thought of that sooner. No, my ropework wasn’t nearly good enough. I’d probably drool on her or something.
I heard something above me, a hiss? I looked up slowly and there in the shadows, a darker shadow seemed to absorb light. I couldn’t see it, not even with spells. I shook my head and grabbed my phone. My hand was not shaking even if there were odd black holes in the reaches of Penny’s attic.
Congratulations. I promised you a secret. Do you want the fun one or the really fun one?
That had been earlier. The more recent one went as follows: Your bride is an aberration. You know that. What you don’t know is that she also has no magic. No magic. No madness. You are the luckiest mage in the world. Eat Pizz.
Zach was clearly drunk. He’d never misspell piss otherwise, or say I should eat it instead of drink it. I knew she was an aberration, a witch with mage energy, but the part about having no magic, was he being literal? Penny never used magic. This attic was empty of magic. The white lab part was full of energy, but not magic.
My heart pounded and my skin buzzed. Penny had magic. Witches who were three quarter Darksider had a lot of magic. Zach was just messing with me. If it was true… I closed my eyes, ignoring the hissing above me. I sat down on my pile of clothes and stared into space.
I was seven when my mother died. She was so beautiful, blonde and graceful. She played the piano and sang, but only for friends. She would glance at my father and he’d nod at her because she only played for him, however many people gathered. She was his witch, adored by him with every breath in his body. She never looked at anyone else like she looked at him, except for me. She was allowed to love me. She’d loved me so much. Love for me killed her. If Penny never had to do that, never had violent rages where her Darksider consumed her humanity and anything else in reach, she’d never beat her children to near death and then kill herself as her only way to save them from the next time when she wouldn’t be so gentle.
It was a long time I sat in the shadows beneath the purple clad body until I heard Penny calling me. I blinked dampness from my eyes. It must be from the dust. Penny would be such a lovely mother if magic and madness didn’t break her.
Chapter 25
Witch
I dressed as quickly as I could, but my fingers fumbled on the buttons of my black nightgown. I braided my hair loosely over my shoulder and went to the bed. I rolled the blanket back and slipped under the black top sheet. Drake had taken the black very well, just like he’d taken the limo ride, the body, and my mother.
I’d tried not to stare at him, but while I’d been in the parlor with him, the light was so green and golden, I couldn’t help but admire the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the lines of his eyebrows. He was very angular, filled out yet sharp. Stars and triangles he was beautiful.
Pitch hissed in my head and the world grew darker as my skin buzzed. I wanted to play with the pretty mage.
I shook my head and said out loud, “Touch him and I’ll seal you so deep inside me that you cease to exist. Also, he’s my mage. He’s my pretty sweet bird. You know what happens to anyone who touches my pets.”
The black specks filled my eyes before I could blink them away. He was too pretty. I wanted to give him more scars.”
I closed my eyes and tried to relax, breathing in and out while the darkness came close and heavy.
“I love him. I love every part and piece of him. I’m marrying him tomorrow. I’m never going to hurt him.”
For a moment it was a close thing as I struggled with the buzzing, hungry darkness, but it eventually melted away into the shadows of my attic. I sat up and tugged on the end of my braid. I pulled my blanket up to cover my cold shoulders while I waited for Drake. He’d been gone a long time. Was he poking the body?
“Drake,” I called, my
voice echoing back to me.
A few minutes later he came blinking into the light of my lit bed, the candles in my monkey skull holders glowing all around me. I’d taken great delight in how macabre it was, but now it seemed tacky and pathetic, like I couldn’t be a real witch, so I had to be a pretend one.
His smile was seductive as he raked his eyes over me and the bed. “Did you miss me? Worry I strayed off the path? Don’t worry, I had Señor Mort to watch over me. Do we keep the Professor in his cage?”
I nodded. “Yes. I’d hate for Señor Mort to eat him on accident. I like your pajamas.” They were black and white striped with tiny hearts every few inches.
He glanced down and smoothed down the fabric. “Thank you. They’d be better if they were pink, but they didn’t have any my size. Can I climb in bed with you? My feet are getting cold.”
I nodded and pulled back the edge of the quilt for him to slip inside. He took a second to brush the dust off his adorable bare feet before he swung in and burrowed down, pulling me with him until I was in his arms, his nose against the side of my neck. I blinked up at the ropes that dangled from the ceiling. He hadn’t asked about those.
He growled in my ear. “Mmm. Are you comfortable? I should have brought more pillows. You smell nice. Do you mind if I hold you like this all night? Maybe I’m too bumpy.”
I turned my head and kissed him until his body softened around me. Pitch hissed from the corners of my mind and I pulled away. “Drake, are you sure you want to marry me? You might get tired of me.”
“I hope so, otherwise I’d never sleep.” He kissed me twice, slow and tender before he sighed and rolled over, stealing the blankets.
“Hey, thief!” I tugged on the blanket until it was all on top of me leaving him curled up adorably on the black mattress.
He leaned on his elbows staring at me with a peculiar smile on his mouth. He moved suddenly, trying to get the blanket, but I pulled it away, overbalanced and would have fallen onto the floor if he hadn’t caught me around the waist and pulled me against him.
Blooming Black: Rosewood Academy of Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 4) Page 22
