Chapter Eleven
The house was quiet when I got home after school. My mother wasn't in the kitchen, enjoying her habitual afternoon cup of Darjeeling. There was no maid arranging flowers in the foyer. I moved through the house, my senses suddenly on alert. I felt like a horror movie heroine easing toward her first confrontation with the Big Bad.
The French doors leading to the sitting room were firmly closed with ruffled drapes drawn over the glass. My hand touched the door and I could hear an imaginary audience in my head yell a warning.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door. My mother sat on a puffed sofa with a complete tea service spread out on the coffee table in front of her. She seemed more serene than I had ever seen her. I was immediately suspicious.
But Leonora wasn't looking at me. Her beatific expression focused in the corner of the room behind me. Even as my internal chorus screamed for me to run, I turned slowly to face the object of my mother's attention. How bad could it be?
A slim figure relaxed in a Tiffany armchair, long legs wrapped in tailored slacks were casually crossed. Sharp features regarded me from under a wave of dark hair and a sardonic smile thinned the lips of a wide mouth.
"Marco," I whispered. It was worse.
"Little sister." He rose, arms wide in a mockery of welcome. His voice hadn't changed in the years since I'd last seen him. The hissing sibilance of a venomous snake mixed with the slick oil of a used car salesman.
I let him hug me, putting on a show of sibling welcome for our mother's benefit.
Marco was the eldest—by a mere minutes, Magdalen and Marise came in a close second and third—firstborn and perfect son. He was the only one of us that my mother never criticized or judged. I couldn't imagine that the sadistic teenager who'd tortured me as a child had changed much in the intervening years. And he was home again.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, pulling away sooner than was strictly polite.
"I hear that End-of-Winter will be celebrated in true Wayward fashion." His smile widened. "I don't want to miss the party."
"Isn't it wonderful." Leonora cried, springing from the chair to envelop us both in her thin arms. "If only I could have all my children together again."
I shuddered to think of it.
Marco made a noncommittal sound in his throat but I caught his sarcastic grin over my mother's head.
"Yes, mother," I said softly. Not if there truly was a God, I wanted to add.
"I called your father and he'll be home early," Leonora continued. She suddenly clapped her hands and the excitement rose in her voice. "I'll have Consuela prepare something extra special for dinner." She clapped her hands again and disappeared into the hallway, calling for the housekeeper as she went.
Marco relaxed back into his chair. "It's been too long, baby sister."
I glared at him. "What do you want, Marco?"
"Is that any way to welcome me home. It's been years."
"Not enough."
With a smirk, Marco pulled a slim flask out of the inside pocket of his jacket. He added a generous draught to the teacup on the end table next to him. "It's good to be home."
I watched him carefully as he relaxed in the armchair. My brother was an angler. He tricked schoolgirls out of their lunch money on the playground when we were little and now he crashed foreign markets and organized hostile takeovers. Marco would never come home without a reason.
"Do you have plans for this little vacation?" I reached for the plate of cookies sitting on the coffee table. "Rape and pillage, perhaps?"
Marco's thin lips spread in a slow smile. "You've changed."
"That's right," I said with as much conviction as I could muster. "You missed Bianca's wedding. Now that was a party."
"So I've heard," Marco replied. He seemed unmoved by my efforts to bait him. "I won't miss out this time."
I shivered and looked away. Damn him. I felt like I had a target on my back and all of my secrets were written on my face. Did he know everything? Was he here to watch me make a fool of myself?
"May End-of-Winter bring you joy," he added with a smile.
The traditional greeting sounded hollow in my ears. I refused to meet his eyes. "To you as well."
There were too many people that I couldn't trust. Enemies circled closer and closer like sharks scenting blood. I tried to remember Darius's promise. Safety and protection. If I lived long enough to enjoy it.
The doorbell rang and I jumped. Marco smirked. "Expecting someone?"
"No." I rose quickly from the chair. I didn't want to find out what Marco would do to an unsuspecting girl scout hawking cookies. "I'll get it."
"Please," Marco said, and slid smoothly past me. "Allow me."
He reached the door before I could stop him and flung it open. Horrified, I caught a glimpse of Sam standing on the porch before the door swung closed and Marco fit himself into the narrow opening. I pulled hard on the door but his hand gripped the wood and it refused to budge.
"Hello there," he murmured as I frantically tugged on the door.
"Hi," Sam replied, chipper as always. The little idiot. "Is Hex home?"
"I'm afraid she's not." I could picture Marco looking her up and down like a stalking panther. I pulled on the door again but he held it fast. "Is there anything that I can do for you?"
"Do you know when she'll be home?"
"Very soon, I'm sure." There was a dangerous note in his voice. "Why don't I come out and wait with you. It's such a beautiful day." Marco slammed the door shut almost catching my fingers. I tried to turn the handle but he held it from the other side.
Muttering a curse, I slammed my hand against the door. I wondered if screaming through the wood for Sam to run for her life would do any good. Probably not. I turned and ran for the kitchen door that led into the backyard.
I forced myself to calm down as I walked around the side of the house, past the tennis court. What was the worst that could happen? It was broad daylight. Marco wouldn't eat a high schooler on our parents' front porch. Then again, I didn't want to stake Sam's life on Marco's sense of restraint.
The porch came into view as I rounded the corner. My brother leaned casually against the railing but there was no sign of Sam. My heart stopped.
I let out a sigh of relief when I heard her laugh.
"I didn't know Hex had a brother. How long are you going to be in town?" To my amazement, Sam had her head tilted coquettishly to the side, a flirtatious smile pulling at her lips.
"I'm feeling an urge to stick around for a while." Marco reached out a hand to brush his fingers lightly against Sam's cheek. "Things suddenly seem much more interesting."
I approached quickly, determined to put an end to this farce. Reaching the stairs, I climbed to the porch and moved in between them. "Marco," I said with a tight smile. "Mother needs you in the house."
"Really," he said, leaning back across the railing. "I didn't realize she was home."
"Just arrived," I shot back. "Go now."
Marco leaned close as he slid past me, whispering too low for Sam to hear. "Game on, little sister."
As soon as the door shut behind him, Sam was on top of me. "Why didn't you tell me you have such a gorgeous older brother?" She grabbed my shoulders, punctuating each word with a shake. "You have to hook us up?"
"Marco?" I asked, as if there was someone else in question. "You don't want him."
"Why not?" Her eyes turned dreamy. "He's mature and sophisticated, not to mention absolutely beautiful." She shook me again on the last word for added emphasis.
She forgot the part about him having no soul. I fumbled for a good excuse to keep Sam as far away from my brother as possible. He'd have her for breakfast. Literally. "My brother can't date one of my friends. It would be too weird. I mean, what if you had a bad break up? I'd be stuck in the middle."
At the crestfallen expression on her face, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Besides, Marco only dates idiot girls. You're way too good for him."
&
nbsp; Sam laughed and gently pushed me away. "You're probably right," she said with a sigh. "I can always dream."
I had a full on vision of Marco gallivanting through Sam's dreams as some white knight on a silvery unicorn. I shuddered at the thought of what he'd do to an actual unicorn if he ever managed to get his hands on one.
"So what's going on?" I asked Sam, forcing a casual tone. I had to get her out of here as soon as possible. It never occurred to me that my family would start trickling into town so early.
Sam pulled a book out of her bag and waved it in my face. "The nature rituals. I thought we could work on them today."
With Marco here, that would be like inviting a lamb into the lion's den. "I can't today. Maybe later this week. We can meet at your house." Sam had to stay as far from here as possible until End-of-Winter was finished.
"Okay," Sam said, obviously disappointed. "I guess I'll just see you in school tomorrow."
"Sorry," I said softly and meant it. "See you in school."
I watched her walk down the steps and out to an old Dodge Neon parked in the driveway. She waved as the car wound its way down to the gate and out onto the street. I stayed on the porch until she was out of sight. I had an irrational thought that Marco lied in wait in the shrubs lining the drive, prepared to jump onto the roof of her car like a rabid dog the moment my back was turned.
Sure that Sam was safely away, I entered the house and slammed the door hard behind me. "Marco," I yelled as I walked through the foyer. My voice echoed through the house.
"You rang."
I jumped at his voice and whirled to find Marco behind me, leaning against the front door.
"What are you playing at?"
Marco shrugged. "You're the one who had dinner delivered."
"She's off limits, Marco. I mean it."
He stepped closer but I stood my ground even as the air started to feel cold. "Is that a challenge?" He asked softly.
"Don't make it one."
"Accidents happen." He smiled. "I'd forgotten they came so young."
"Stay away from my friends, Marco." I spoke with a harshness that I never would have dared to use with my brother before. "Don't make me tell you again."
He reached out as if to touch my cheek and I reared back with a snarl. "It's so good to be home."
His laugh followed me up the stairs.
In my room, I dropped my bag on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. It gave comfortably under my weight, enveloping me in pillowy softness. I just wanted to sleep forever, lost to a dreaming world without pain and strife.
Sam wanted the dashing knight to sweep her away to a land of fantasy. When my eyes closed at night, I dreamed of peace and silence. A part of me—so small I barely acknowledged it—never wanted to wake again.
I rose to a sitting position and stared at my rumpled reflection in the mirror above the dresser. My eyes were dull and lifeless like a porcelain dolls. Dark circles bruised the skin underneath them and my lips were pinched thin. I looked like hell.
The stress was getting to me. Staying with my family, going to school, making friends with girls just as likely to smile as stab me in the back—pretending that everything had stayed the same.
As if I wouldn't face the stuff of my nightmares in less than two weeks time. It was more than I could bear.
A wave of fear and dread threatened to overtake me and I forced the emotions away with an effort. If Valentine would grant me anything, it was a death wish. I couldn't afford to be weak.
Petals littered the top of the dresser as the rose wilted in its vase. I moved to sweep them into the trash can when something caught my eye. A wooden box sat behind the vase, pushed all the way back against the wall.
It was rough and hand-carved, remarkable only for a complete lack of ornamentation. It hadn't been there when I left for school only a handful of hours before.
Opening it was a bad idea. There were a dozen different ways the box could be booby-trapped. It could be I never noticed it there before. Or, more likely, it was just a nasty surprise from Marco.
I gripped the lid with my fingertips and pulled it off. The box was empty. Only a black velvet lining that seemed oddly ornate against the simplicity of the wood was all that lay inside. I stroked one finger over the bristly softness of the velvet. Something hard lay underneath, in between the cloth and wood.
Gently untucking the cloth from the sides of box, I pulled it free. I turned it over in my hands. It wasn't a lining at all but a bag with a tied drawstring. Inside of it, I felt something small and smooth.
When I upended the bag, a heavy chain fell into my hands. On it was a pendant the size of my fist; a dark stone surrounded by glittering diamonds. I knew it immediately. Thick paranoia rose through me and I turned in a slow circle, as if enemies would jump from the corners. I tore into the box again and found something else.
A handwritten note lay folded at the bottom of the box.
A gift returned.
The note wasn't signed but it didn't need to be. Only one person would dare come into my parent's house to leave this here. My family wouldn't recognize the necklace as a piece of any significance.
Cool air blew through the open window. I suddenly felt vulnerable and over exposed. I went to the window and closed it firmly, pulling the curtains shut. Darius could be watching me even now, keeping track of his investment.
I turned the necklace over in my hands so it shimmered delicately in the light. Thick strands of silver wove together to form the chain and a black star sapphire hung from the center. It was light to the touch but I knew once it touched my neck, the jewels would grow heavy and hang from me like a weight.
The necklace was a message. Darius knew as well as I did that Valentine would want little to do with me as I was—powerless and pathetic. I had to prove to him that things could be the way they were. I would have to play the old games again.
The sapphire glowed from the center of the pendant and it burned as if lit from within. My face reflected back at me in its fiery depths and I was lost.