Covet the Night, page 33
Gwen scanned the room discreetly for the next sister to step forward, prepared to see another unfamiliar face—not Lily. Gwen ducked her head to hide her shock and inhaled till her lungs couldn't draw in any more air.
"You love him," Lily stated.
Gwen exhaled roughly and forced herself to watch the scene play out.
Anguish held Danica captive. Her chin quivered.
"Yes."
"More than us?"
"No."
"You do." Lily frowned. "You won't share him, and you won't share yourself with us." Her laughter cut, dressed in bitterness and condescension. "Time and again, you've chosen him over us, and it's only gotten worse with your most recent dalliance. Only look at Cypress. You abandoned her to those ruthless sorcerers who you knew—"
"I didn't know—"
"You knew they were a threat!” Lily shouted above her. "You knew," she accused, chest heaving as she pointed at Danica. "And yet you chose him. He's poisoned you to us, and it is his love that has severed our bond of sisterhood."
"No!" Danica cried, ripping away from Madame Roux only to curl her arms around herself. She shook her head from side to side.
"Yes," Lily pressed savagely. "You made vows to the sisterhood—to give and take in equal measure, to always defend and protect, to love us with your entire being—and in return, we vowed to always do the same. Those vows have kept us safe for centuries from the snakes and wolves pounding at our doors." She settled her temper. Smoothing back her cherry-red hair from her face, she cast her gaze expectantly about the room. "So long as we mind these vows, the sisterhood shall never crumble."
"Semper Paratus," the sisterhood chanted.
Lily approached Danica, reaching out to hold her hands. Tears ran down Danica's face as she placed her hands in Lily's. "After all our years together and what we've been through," Lily said, "tell me, truthfully. Do you love him more than us?"
For a long while, Danica stood silent. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Gwen tracked her movements with rapt attention, her stomach in knots as her anxiety-driven adrenaline left her muscles taut as a bow.
"I've given almost three hundred and fifty years to this sisterhood. There can be no doubt of my love for all of you and this blessed life I've been given."
"And yet there is." Lily's voice took on a maudlin timbre, the notes of which did not align with the affable superiority carved out on her lips. Danica stiffened, yanked her hands from Lily's grasp, and shuffled back. "Your heart has always been the softest among us, and he has infected it with—"
"Love is not an affliction!"
"Isn't it?"
The room pitched into an eerie silence as Lily's soft query penetrated the air. She gazed upon Danica with true sorrow, enough to bring a strange clot of emotion in Gwen's chest.
"Is it not the cause of the greatest suffering and distress? Does it not burrow its way into your heart regardless of logic? It sinks into our bones and makes us bend and cave to its will."
Danica took a halting step in Lily's direction, her cheeks blotchy. Madame Roux paced near the pair; her eyes lit with keen assessment.
"Why are you doing this?"
Lily sighed. "Do you love him more than us?"
Danica looked around the room frantically but to no avail. "Is it such a crime to love?" she asked the sisterhood.
Lily darted forward and cupped Danica's face to lay a kiss on her brow. Pulling back, she asked again. Danica reared back with a desperate cry out of reach of both Lily and Madame Roux. It escaped no one's notice that she didn’t answer.
The sisterhood looked toward Madame Roux—save for Danica, who gazed beyond the world with a hollowness that seemed to permeate her very being.
"You listened to your sisters' testimony, and now it is time for you to act. What we offer you now is an opportunity—an opportunity to prove your love once and for all. Should you choose your human lover, you will leave this household immediately. No shelter shall be given to you here, our love will be revoked, and your name will be stricken." Danica grew stiffer with each word Madame spoke. "Should you choose us"—a canny gleam swarmed the depths of Madame Roux's eyes—"there is only one road for you to take."
Danica's throat bobbed. Tears continued to trek down her cheeks fast even as a door slammed open from across the room. A masculine voice rang out. Hans.
Gwen averted her eyes briefly as he stormed over to Danica's side.
"Are you all right? Have they hurt you?"
Hisses and growls pierced the air at Hans’s questions, but he paid them no mind. His eyes swept over Danica's form, followed by his hands.
"Dani, talk to me. Say something."
He gripped the tops of her arms as he stared down at her. The sight of them lost in each other's gazes felt like a knife twisting in Gwen's gut.
"I love you," Danica sobbed as she trembled violently. "I do. I love you."
A wan smile quirked up Hans’s lips, the profile handsome. "And I love you."
"Kiss me."
The words had only just escaped her when his lips fell upon hers with ravenous hunger. His hands moved to cradle her face reverently as he deepened their kiss. Danica moaned.
Tension rode high throughout Gwen's body as she watched the scene play out. This was what happened to those whose loyalty and commitment to the sisterhood was in question—a trial of sorts took place, providing a means to accuse and defend before forcing the accused to choose.
The pair pulled apart, Hans gasping for breath as he smoothed back Danica's limp hair. "Let us go." His voice was surprisingly firm as he straightened his back and spared the occupants of the room a sneer. He caught hold of Danica's hand and went as if to lead her away, but she didn’t budge.
"I love you."
Gwen couldn't hear the words, but she saw Danica's lips form them. Repeat them over and over and over again. Gwen couldn't hear them, but she felt them, each and every one.
Gwen knew what would happen next. She could see it like a premonition in her mind's eye seconds before it occurred. It was the way in which Danica reached for him, her fingers sliding up his jaw to bring him back close. The careful brush of her lips against his. Her whispered words of love. And then the sickening crack as his head was twisted to the side in one violent jerk almost too fast for Gwen's eyes to catch.
Danica’s hand moved with supernatural speed to her heart next, but the reckless act was halted by two quick-acting sisters: Aster and Delphine.
Gwen’s stomach heaved even as her heart broke for Danica, and then her blood ran cold. Madame Roux's malicious regard was pinned on her. The matriarch of the Roux cocked an eyebrow pointedly, swinging her gaze from Gwen to Danica, then back again.
No words needed to be spoken for Gwen to understand Madame Roux's message.
This was a preview of her fate should she choose to pursue something serious with William. This was the reason behind Laurel's insistence in the hall. William and Gwen could be together for some short while, but not forever. It would be his death by her hands or enduring the Roux's vengeful wrath for decades, maybe centuries.
Gwen directed her gaze to the floor as she breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing pulse. Flashes of Briar and Sebastian filled her head. Briar was banished two decades ago, and over the course of those twenty years, the Roux still did their best to hurt and harm the couple. Apparently, the Roux didn’t forget their former sisters so easily after all, and this was another preview of her future.
The only reason the couple lived was because of the Vranas’ royal status.
Gwen's hands unclasped and fell limply to her sides. She hadn't chosen this life to run from death all over again. She didn't expect to be hunted.
Laurel's icy fingers grazed Gwen's arm, and their eyes met. Her solemn, brooding expression was enough to reiterate her earlier warning before she joined the slew of others gathering around Danica to offer their comfort.
Gwen stayed in her spot, dimly aware that Violet came to stand at her side. Together they watched as Hans’s body was discreetly taken out of the room, neither saying a word—none needing to be said.
XX
A
quiet resignation had seized Gwen.
It did not startle her or make her stumble. It simply drew her gaze a hundred miles away and left her oddly numb. Unfortunately, the numbness acted only as a balm to her emotions and not her body. She suffered two valiant nosebleeds after waking for the evening. Laurel covered up the matter swiftly, quarantining Gwen to her private bathing chamber to hide the scent of blood and nurse her. A new source of bleeding was discovered shortly after that was far more persistent in its regularity.
When the pair joined the rest of the sisterhood in the common room for a lavish tea party, Gwen worried her sickly pallor would draw too many stares, but the sisters only had eyes for Danica.
"Delphine found her favorite—one of the little street boys, an A-negative—but she hasn't finished her first glass yet," Lily chattered on in a low voice to Hazel. The two stopped their gossiping to spare Laurel and Gwen a smile, though Hazel's brow wrinkled faintly as her eyes dragged up and down Gwen a second time.
"You look… ill." The word felt taboo, the way it rolled off Hazel's tongue in disgusted dismay. "Are you?"
"Her monthly," Laurel explained as they sat.
Hazel's frown sank deeper. Gwen wet her lips and smiled dimly back. "I suppose my haut chic inspiration didn't turn out exactly as I expected."
"You look like death, Gwendolyn, and not the good kind." The set of Hazel's shoulders softened as she leaned across the small bistro table to pat Gwen's hand. "A little less bronzer next time. Your cheekbones are already a cut above the rest. They only need the barest kiss of highlight to set them to their full glory. Next time, I'll do your makeup before coming."
The matter settled, Hazel and Lily dove into a detailed recap of the surprise tea party's manifestation, from Danica's misty-eyed gratitude to her empty plate and brave face. Everyone seemed to be ignoring the fact that she’d tried to kill herself after murdering her lover, so Gwen followed suit.
"Aster hasn't left her side," Lily finished with a flourish of her hand, then poured a thick column of blood into her and Hazel's teacups. The brazen vampyré pointed out the small teapot nestled in front of Gwen's seat expectantly, then turned her stormy gray eyes to Laurel.
"Of course, she hasn't," Laurel chastised. "Danica is her childe. She would never leave her alone after such a devastating loss." She turned to Gwen, her sharp brown eyes darting from her to the empty teacup still in front of her. "We made sure there would be a small selection just for you, my pet. Eat up. Although I can't quite remember the pains of one's monthly courses, I do distinctly remember sweets making everything better."
Gwen filled her cup and plate mindlessly, her attention reverting to the woman of the hour.
She was flanked by her sister, Delphine, and sire, Aster. They were the last of the Orchid sister line, having risen to power briefly in 1851 after a successful coup before falling and losing their position of power in 1858. From there, Violet explained the night before, they were hit with loss after loss until their numbers dwindled to three. The only sister line smaller was Cassia's. If Becca survived, her household would boast a total of two sisters.
"How long will they stay with her?" Gwen found herself asking.
The delicate tinkle of china set down too firmly brought Gwen's attention back to Lily. "Forever." A steely glint flashed across Lily's dark gray eyes. "After all, what are sisters for?"
Pinpricks dotted the back of Gwen's exposed neck, but she forced a benign smile to her lips in the face of her soon-to-be sister's flint-like inspection.
"Stop nettling. She doesn't know any better," Hazel scolded, dabbing the excess blood off her bottom lip as she finished her drink. Her pearly napkin, stained red only at its corner, went back to her lap as her gaze glided over to Gwen. "Everyone will support Danica in their own way. Her heart won't want for comfort at all. In a few weeks, Hans will be nothing but a fond recollection with bittersweet notes of their time together."
Gwen trailed a finger absentmindedly over the scalloped edge of her plate before plucking off one of the petite sandwiches. "Weeks?"
Hazel's sympathetic smile strained. "Time passes differently when you're immortal. In the blink of an eye, another year goes by. He'll be forgotten, and another will take his place—though I doubt Danica will forget her lesson. Peony went out of her way to make an example out of their relationship. I’ve heard some sisters whispering that Peony went too far."
Lily cast her eyes away. “Yes, well, it’s done now. And those sisters you heard might mind their tongues better. Madame Roux’s patience is quite thin as of late. There's no telling who she'll want to make an example of next to maintain her order. It's best to toe the line, so to speak.”
"Aptly said, Lilian. The sisterhood above all." Laurel spoke softly, arms folded over her chest as she surveyed their group with heavy-lidded eyes. "In heart, mind, and soul."
Goose bumps broke out over Gwen's arms, thankfully hidden by the sleek long-sleeve jumpsuit she wore. "Semper Paratus."
Lily made a pleased noise that grated against Gwen's eardrums. She wasn't the only one pleased by Gwen's words. Hazel clasped both hands over her heart, and the two vampyrés shared adoring looks.
"She's perfect," Lily announced.
Hazel's head jerked up and down in hearty agreement.
"I thought that mongrel was going to turn you into a black widow just like Danica, but my fears were for naught." Hazel smiled brightly at Laurel. "You couldn't have chosen better, sister."
"Gwen's a quick study. Even if this unfortunate mess with Danica never occurred, she would have seen through William's pretty words and carnal touch. She would never have let it drag out like this. Isn't that right, my pet?"
Gwen fiddled with the napkin in her lap, pasting a smile onto her face. "What is a 'black widow,' precisely?" she asked, fearful of the answer. "I've heard the term here and there, and I think I know what it means, but I'd rather not assume and make a fool of myself."
"I'm sure your assumptions are dead-on. A black widow is quite as it sounds, Gwen, dear. They're sisters who kill their lovers for the good of the sisterhood." Lily sipped her blood, a grin tugging at her lips. "Indeed, it's really no wonder that Danica claims the title when both her sire and sister do too."
Hazel covered her mouth to stifle a giggle and glanced furtively at the trio of black widows. "Hush, you shouldn't speak in such a way. Not so openly, Lily."
Lily scoffed, and the women dove into discussing Gwen's potential as well as the remaining initiates. Gwen kept quiet, popping a savory petit four into her mouth and offering short tips of her head every now and then. Inside, her stomach turned and twisted.
A black widow. That was what she would become if she took an unsuitable lover or let her heart stray. They would expect her to kill William.
Their love held a bitter familiarity to it. The kind that smothered and was keen to consume—whatever the cost. Her father dealt out his love in much the same way, though it wasn't always like that. With her mother's passing, his love spoiled into something greedier and desperate.
The Roux's love was anything but desperate. It was nonnegotiable. Tied up in a pretty dress and showered with compliments. If you strayed, you were brought to heel. Or else….
Another petit four met its end between her jaws as Gwen drew her gaze to Danica. There was someone new standing behind her, fingers idly playing with her strawberry curls. The newcomer said something that made the women laugh, but it was clear to Gwen that Danica's heart wasn't in it. Her blue eyes were muted, and her smile was cracking at the edges. The idling sister wandered back to her table after a kiss on Danica's cheek.
Gwen wondered when the next sister would be upon her.
She swept her gaze over the room. The common room was transformed into some Parisian dream with a dozen or so wrought iron bistro tables seating couples and groups of four. Vases of flowers crowded the empty spaces between peonies, lilies, roses of every shade and bud. Their coiling scent did not mix well with the generous flow of blood in the contained space.
Gwen's ears perked as her name was mentioned. A hand gestured in her direction, and she offered another one of her benign smiles, this time hiding it behind the lip of her teacup. Earl Grey wasn't her favorite with its bergamot notes, but she made no complaint. When a dormouse shifter scampered over to her side to refill her half-empty cup, she dipped her head in acquiescence.
The servant boasted a clear complexion and a lovely round face, but they wouldn't meet Gwen's eye as she muttered her thanks. She picked up her cup without waiting for her tea to cool, and her tongue suffered the consequences of her next sip. She hissed, teeth scraping against the offending area as if it could erase the jolt of pain.
"You really must eat more, Gwen," Hazel said out of nowhere, forcing a pause in whatever conversation Laurel and Lily were having. She reached over the table to pile the rest of the edible delights on her small pate. "Eat," she ordered and then returned her full attention to the other two.
Gwen's smile shook. It was taking all her effort to keep her displeasure and discomfort hidden after a listless sleep. Mechanically, she popped one of the morsels into her mouth, masticating it beyond taste before swallowing. And then another, and another.
The unignorable flex of sisterly concern was not something Gwen could afford to ignore so near the third and final initiation test.
The rich hazelnut cake she chewed lost the best of its flavor as she surveyed the room. Whoever arranged the elaborate tea party went to great lengths to make it a feast for the senses. From the delicious trays of food to the floral perfume, all the way down to the thralls still as statues and bare as the day they were born. Pink tinged Gwen's overly dressed cheeks as her gaze skimmed the proudly erect living displays. Few females occupied the prestigious placement, and those who did stood in pairs or threesomes, hands and mouths posed erotically.
