Eleanor doesn’t push it.
“Regardless of where you sit, dinner is at seven. Promptly at seven. You know that. If you’re late, don’t bother attending.”
Dare doesn’t seem concerned. He stares back at her.
“Noted.”
His voice is deep and husky and cold.
For the rest of dinner, the only noise in the room is silver scraping against china.
It’s uncomfortable, and it’s silent.
If only Finn were here.
He’d be kicking me beneath the table, rolling his eyes, making me laugh.
But he’s not.
I’m alone.
And I’ve never felt so uneasy.
Except for when I encountered the strange man earlier.
“Is there someone else living here?” I ask suddenly, and Eleanor looks up from her fruit.
“Pardon me?” she raises her eyebrow.
“Earlier,” I explain. “I was restless so I went for a walk outside. There was a guy out there in a hoodie. He seemed out of place.”
Dare and Eleanor exchange a glance.
“What did he look like?” Dare asks me quietly, his eyes frozen on mine.
I shrug. “I couldn’t see his face, he had his hood up. He was young, though. Sort of skinny.”
Silence.
Finally, Dare clears his throat. “There’s no one else here, Calla. Aside from Jones and Sabine, we have a groomsman for the stable, but he’s an elderly man. There is a gardening team, but they come here early in the morning before anyone is out of bed.”
“Then who was it?” I ask, confused, and a bit afraid.
Dare stares at me. “Maybe you just thought you saw someone.”
I flush, because of my recent history, it’s no wonder they don’t believe me. The heat spreads to my chest, and I fight the urge to fan myself.
“I… maybe,” I finally agree.
I’m jet-lagged. I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. It’s quite possible that I hadn’t seen him at all. Because I’d also thought my room was growling.
“I hate this place,” I mutter to myself when we’re finally released. Dare overhears me and increases his long strides so he catches up to me.
“It’s not that bad,” he tells me. “It’s what you make of it, as long as you never let your guard down.”
I glance at him, and God, I miss him.
We pass in front of a window and the moonlight bathes his face, and I want to touch his lips with my fingers.
He walks me to my room.
“Tell me more about the guy you saw outside,” he says softly, and his fingers find mine. They wrap around my hand, warm and familiar, and I want to close my eyes.
“No,” I finally answer. “You’re right. My eyes were probably playing tricks on me. I was really tired.”
Dare’s gaze is doubtful. Concerned.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asks, and his tone is hopeful.
Everything in me screams to say yes, to let him hold me until I sleep, to soak up his familiarity and warmth, but I shake my head because my heart is still afraid.
And there must be a reason why.
“That’s ok. You don’t need to babysit me. I’m ok, Dare. I promise.”
It’s a lie.
I’m not.
But he can’t make it better.
He cocks his head.
“Dare, I… I need some space.”
“Some space?”
I nod. “Yeah. I need to come to grips with things, to wrap my head around… Finn, and you, and I … I need space.”
There’s silence, and the air is charged and I ache to fold into him, to let him hold all of my fears at bay, but I can’t. I can’t be weak. Something big, bigger than me, depends on it. I just don’t know what yet.
He finally nods. “Ok. I’ll give you some space. If you need me, text me and I’ll be here in two minutes.”
I nod and he bends, pressing his lips to my forehead. I don’t shirk away.
After he leaves me, I enter my lonely bedroom and sit on my lonely bed and inhale the lonely air.
“I miss you, Finn,” I breathe aloud. Because he always ‘got me’, no matter what. I never had to explain, I never had to elaborate. Things could go unspoken.
It was a twin thing.
But now he’s gone and I’m alone.
It’s not a comfortable place, to be a half without a whole.
I glance around my room. It’s large and expansive and the chair in front of the windows beckons me, and I slouch into it, pulling my knees to my chest, picking back up Jane Eyre.
Below me, outside, the English moors roll on for miles, yawning across the perimeter of Whitley. Whitley is so similar to Thornfield Hall that Charlotte Bronte could’ve written her book from my windows.
As I watch, fog rises up from the ground, shrouding everything in mist.
It’s just when I’m glancing away to read my book that I see the movement.
I fixate again on the moors.
Focusing harder, I wait for it, almost expecting to see the mysterious man from earlier.
But it’s Dare.
He walks along the path from the gardens, gliding along in the night, his stride wide and familiar.
Then he stops.
He must feel me staring at him because he looks up.
He turns his dark head and his gaze finds me.
It’s as though he can see me watching, all the way from the stable.
His eyes are blacker than night, and he has found me.
His gaze is hot and I close my eyes, my breathing shallow.
When I open them, he’s gone.
But the strange feeling, the odd thought, lingers with me.
He’s dangerous.
I’m unsafe.
And he has found me.
What a strange thought.
But then again, I’m a strange girl.
* * *
Breakfast and lunch are just as formal and uncomfortable at Whitley as dinner is.
After a morning of sitting uncomfortably alone, I manage to slip away without Sabine noticing. She’s been watching me, and I fear that she’s waiting for her chance to pin me down, to talk to me more about my mother.
I can’t do that.
Not yet.
As I burst into the fresh air of the outdoors, I tilt my face to the sun and draw in a deep breath.
God, it feels good to be free.
Startled, I realize that even though I’m nervous of this place, it’s still a welcome break from my reality back home.
The suffocating daily life of a girl who lives in a funeral home.
Back home, everyone knows what I am. A sad girl who lost most of her family and went crazy. I’ll never shake those things off, I’ll never just be normal.
But I’m free of it here.
For now.
Until I’m here long enough and they figure it all out.
Sighing, I head down the cobbled path toward the stables, intent on exploring the property, on seeing everything there is to see.
My feet crunch on the stone, my lungs expanding as I breathe.
I’m startled when a shadow steps out from the building.
My gasp is louder than I intend, and Dare looks up.
He’s dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt. The pieces fit him so well, they look tailored specifically for him. It seems that no matter what he wears, he’s perfectly at home in the clothing.
He arcs an eyebrow as he pauses on the path.
“Are you lost?”
His tone is careful, almost abrupt. He’s giving me space, trying not to crowd me, just like I requested. He’s hesitant to open himself to me now, because I’ve already rejected him.
It feels odd, like he’s a stranger, and I don’t like it but I don’t stop it.
Because it has to be.
It has to be for now.
I shuffle my feet nervously.
“No. I’m just looking around.”
“Woul
d you like company?” he asks, and he’s poised to join me.
It would be so easy, to just say yes.
But…something is in his eyes.
Something that I’ve seen before, but I can’t remember.
The fear swells back up in my stomach and I shake my head.
“No, thank you,” I answer finally, and Dare’s dark eyes close. He’s guarded now so I can’t hurt him. “I think I’ll just explore on my own. I don’t want to waste your time.”
“You’ve never been a waste of my time,” he tells me, and his tone is oddly formal.
He walks on, past me, and for a minute, I’m panicky.
Don’t leave me alone.
“Wait,” I call out, without even meaning to.
He stops, but doesn’t turn around.
“Yes?”
“Will you be at dinner tonight?”
My question is breathless and I internally kick myself. Stop acting so eager. You’re sending mixed signals. But my heart is mixed and I can’t help it.
Dare starts walking again.
“Of course.”
I watch him walk away, the way his broad shoulders and slim hips move.
He’s everything to me, everything I’ve ever wanted and ever will want.
It makes me want to scream in frustration, because is there really something so bad about him that I should be pushing him away?
My heart thumps and I think there is… I just can’t put my finger on it.
Yet.
Dare disappears over the hill towards the house, and it’s a few seconds before I realize that I’m being watched.
The tiny hairs stand up on my neck, and goose-bumps form on my arms. I look around, scanning my surroundings, but no one is here.
I’m alone.
Or am I?
It seems… it seems… it seems like there is someone standing at the edge of the house. There is a movement, and was that a flash of gray? But then it’s not there and I’m imagining it.
For a moment, as I’m dwarfed by the shadows, and as the silence envelops me, I feel more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life.
It’s not a good feeling.
It’s actually terrifying.
St. Michael save me.
Save me.
Save me.
My fingers find Finn’s necklace, buried under my shirt. I grasp it in my fingers, as I pray to the archangel.
St. Michael, protect me.
Protect me from the snares of the devil, because somehow I know the devil is here.
He’s here and I’m in danger.
I just don’t know what the danger is.
But you do.
Protect me til I know.
Protect me.
Protect me.
Protect me.
Chapter 6
There is a whispering in the hall, and I pull on my clothes, eager to leave this room behind. I throw open my doors to find Sabine in the hall, speaking with Jones.
They both look up at me, surprised at my abrupt appearance.
“Can we help you, Miss Price?” Jones asks, his tone so formal and stiff.
He belongs here, I think. Here in this stiff, stiff house.
“No, thank you,” I say. “I’m just restless.”
Sabine notices the book beneath my arm.
“We have a magnificent library here,” she tells me. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
We pass through the quiet halls and the silent rooms, and always, always, always, I feel watched. Invisible eyes stare through me, into me, and I hate it.
There is something here.
Something.
“Do you feel safe here?” I ask her abruptly as she pushes open the library doors. She turns to me, surprised.
“Of course, Miss Price,” she says throatily. “You don’t?”
“Please, call me Calla,” I tell her, avoiding the question as she leads me into the room.
Shelves of books surround me, lining the room, ceiling to floor.
“I’ll light the fireplace to get rid of the morning chill,” she says, crossing the room and kneeling in front of the beautiful stone.
I leave her as quickly as I can, to get away from her question, and I go from book to book, but of course she doesn’t forget and when I turn back around, she’s there.
“Let’s sit by the fire, child.”
It’s a suggestion, but she’s pulling my elbow and so I find myself beside the lapping flames. She sits next to me, and her gaze is magnetic.
“Why do you feel unsafe here,” she asks. “Has something happened?”
My brother and mother died.
That’s what I want to say.
But I don’t because that’s awkward, and so I swallow hard instead.
“Do you feel guilty for surviving?” she asks, her words direct and insightful.
I swallow again.
“Because things happen for a reason, the way they’re meant to happen. You survived them because you were meant to. There is no guilt in that.”
“I miss them,” I whisper. And it feels like a confession. I always felt I had to be strong for dad, to not show weakness. To hold up Finn.
But Finn wasn’t real.
He was gone all along.
I don’t have to be strong anymore.
Sabine nods and she gazes into the flames.
“I know,” she says. “I didn’t know your brother, but I miss your mother. She used to brighten my days, child. Whitley can be dark. Your mama was a light.”
For some reason, her words only make me sadder because that light has been snuffed, and there’s only darkness here now.
The fire warms my knees and my bones, and I cup my hands to my chest. I block out my emotions, because emotions only hurt.
Instead, I want to know about Dare.
“Dare grew up here?” I ask, trying to sound casual. “He must’ve been a light for you, too.”
Although even now those words sound ridiculous. Dare is beautiful, Dare is my heart, but Dare isn’t a light.
He’s my darkness.
Sabine smiles and her smile is sad.
“Dare did grow up here,” she confirms. “He was mine, as much as Laura was. He still is, child. I couldn’t help him once, but I’d protect him now with my life.”
She looks at me now defensively, as though she has to protect him from me.
I’m confused, and I want to ask why, but I can’t.
Because Dare himself finds us.
“Sabby,” he says as he crosses the room, but his eyes are on me. “Jones needs you.”
She stares at him knowingly. He has come to save me once again, to rescue me from this situation and Sabine knows it. She creaks out of the chair and shuffles away.
She doesn’t look back.
“She loves you,” I offer, without looking up.
The flames are red and they lick at me.
“Yes,” he agrees simply and he takes her vacant seat.
He takes my book from my hands, staring at the cover.
“Jane Eyre,” he observes and he sifts through the pages. “Interesting choice. Are you my Jane, Calla?”
I swallow and look away.
Because that would make him Mr. Rochester.
“Jane saved Rochester, you know,” Dare continues, his voice smooth like the night. “Eventually.”
“I can’t save anyone,” I tell him helplessly. “Because I don’t know all the facts.”
Dare closes his eyes and he seems to glow from the flames.
“You do.”
I just can’t remember them.
He opens his eyes again, and the expression knifes me in the heart, because I’ve seen it before.
It’s hurt, it’s vulnerable, it’s anxious.
It’s hiding something.
Something I know.
Something that scares me.
Save me, and I’ll save you.
“I don’t like it here,” I murmur.
“I know.
”
* * *
I write my dad a letter, and I give it to Sabine.
“He’ll want to know I’m ok,” I tell her. She nods because of course he will.
She hands me a cup of tea.
In England, tea fixes everything.
“Is Dare here?” I ask casually, because even now, he’s the sun and I’m the moon. I need his light to live.
She shakes her head. “No. He’ll be back though, child. He always comes back.”
What a strange thing to say.
But I don’t dwell on it.
Instead, I think about light.
I think about how the moonlight is really a reflection of the sun, of how the moon doesn’t create any light at all. So a thing that seems to radiate silvery, ethereal light is really the darkest of the dark.
I’m the moon.
And I have no light of my own.
I need Dare for that.
But if he’s the sun, he’ll burn me.
And my metaphors are making me sick.
I retreat to the gardens, where I’m surrounded by flowers and silence.
All I have are my thoughts here, and my mind is a scary place.
I close my eyes and will my memories to return,
But all I can see is the past.
The past I know.
Not the things that I don’t.
My mother’s screams haunt me.
Finn’s headstone, my tears.
His journal, which I left at home.
I wish I’d brought it.
At least I’d feel closer to him, even though his words were crazy.
I picture a page filled with scribble, with his familiar handwriting and scratched out words.
With perfect clarity, I remember it.
Calla will save me.
Or I will die.
I will die.
I will die.
Serva me, serva bo te.
Save me and I’ll save you.
A shudder runs through me because I couldn’t.
I couldn’t save Finn.
And no amount of words and consolation… from my father, from Dare, from Sabine… no amount of argument can change that.
You survived them for a reason.
Sabine’s nonsense comes back to me, and I ponder it.
For what reason?
I don’t know.
Is my reason to save Dare, like Jane saved Mr. Rochester?
I don’t know.
All I know is I have to uncover his truth if I am ever to save anything.