Page 21 of Chasing the Night
I smiled and quietly laughed over the sob I had been keeping in check. Messiah’s long arm stretched around me and tugged me into a side hug. He pointed across the room, and I noticed Reverie sitting like a statue beside her new husband.
Her new husband leaned in to kiss her and she flinched, squinting half her face up in misery until his lips left her cheek. It was the only thing she would allow him to plant them on.
“Let’s get outta here,” Messiah suggested.
I scrambled from my chair so fast, one heel gave out and I wound up wrenching my ankle in the process. I hissed in air through clenched teeth, determined not to be the cause of another scene. Messiah patted my arm and adjusted his grip on me, so he could help me walk.
“Good thinking, now we have an excuse.” He softly laughed.
My smile fell instantly, which only made him laugh all the harder. No one paid him any mind. Even when he brushed against the other guests on the way past. They gave brief glances and hastily returned their attention to their food.
The fresh mountain air was something else at night and the stars were positively majestic. I wrapped my arms around myself and hurriedly followed him outside, craning my neck now and again to appreciate the sky.
We climbed a set of stairs that led to a bridge and perched on the center. I was so happy to be away from all the noise. It was overwhelming. I was used to being alone with only me and mother. I had barely been given time to get adjusted to the Krypt Villa and its occupants.
Messiah seemed to sense my need for peace and quiet. He, too, appeared content to laze and soak up the tranquility of the stream below. Once I was grounded enough, I noticed the voices trickling out of the city hall building.
“Who is that?” I asked pointing to the people below.
The woman, I recognized; she was the Lady of House Kantor. Her heels clicked noisily over the cobblestone as she approached with a stocky, much younger man at her side. Her lips moved fervently, the pitch of her voice was high and shrill, but I couldn’t distinguish what she was saying. However, the way she snapped her neck toward the man and occasionally jabbed her finger into his chest, left no doubt that they were fussing.
Messiah leaned across the railing, elongating his neck before me so he could peek under the bridge as they passed. Stubble lined his throat, I’m not sure why that stood out to me, but it did. I wanted to reach out and run my hand across it.
The wind sifted the leaves of the bushes and carried a smell that was to die for. I may have swigged the wine, so what? When it came to scents, I was a connoisseur. Many of my younger days were spent mixing up my own recipes of herbs and essences. I inhaled sharply, unwilling to miss a chance for a second taste. That’s exactly what it was. The scent of his bath oils was so perfectly blended, I wanted to lick it off him. It was spicy but toned with amber and sandalwood. There was something else that I couldn’t quite place and gave up trying to when I noticed that I had been all but drinking in the scent of him with my eyes closed.
The only reason I noticed was because he was perched with an elbow on the rail and his eyes trained on my face. Heat flew from my toes to the apples of my cheeks so fast it tingled. I looked away, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.
Heels echoed from under the bridge.
“You will do… as you are bid.” The woman’s voice made my skin crawl. I wanted to cower from her, and it wasn’t even me she was addressing. Her presence brought a foulness with it that lingered in the air and polluted the mood of everything around her.
“Klarissa Kantor and her son Keifer Kantor,” Messiah said.
“W… Why do they all have K names?” I squinted
Messiah snorted and quickly quipped, “Tradition… Likely the only thing their dirt asses have to pass on.”
Laughter crawled out of me before I could contain it. My fingers covered my mouth until my cheeks ached, and I could feel the happy lines at the edges of my eye.
“Their... dirt asses?” I tried before shaking my head and giving up.
He hefted his brows in the air and nodded in confirmation before nudging my arm and crooking his out. “Come, the hour is late, and the streets grow dark.”
I glanced about and realized that only the Painted Ladies remained on the streets. I forced back the excitement to go and see one up close. I wanted to know if all that paint really concealed who they were. Their faces were brightly colored with war masks and exaggerated pouts. Some boasted diamond patterns that lay over each eye, others used kohl to contour their features and give the illusion of cat’s eyes.
I started to ask after them but caught the warning in Messiah’s eyes. Instead, I placed my hand on his arm and was rewarded with an approving hmm.
“You are a Krypt now. You must carry yourself as such. A proper woman of high birth. You mustn’t associate yourself with painted ladies, or any of the scoundrels that blow about like rubbish on these streets. Do not let Atticus think that you are a foolish young thing like Reverie. He uses people for what they are worth… So be careful of what standard you set for yourself. You don’t want to be carted off like Reverie, now, do you?”
I shook my head, unable to speak.
“That’s my girl,” he smiled.