Covet the Night, page 38
"No." Gwen gritted her teeth against a stab of pain inside her lungs. "I haven't changed my mind." Her gaze flickered from Poppy to William. "I need to do this. He won't listen to any of you."
Gwen missed whatever look Poppy spared her, facing William one final time. He looked ready for war. She hardened, forcing out the words she knew would keep him safe from the Roux's wrath.
"It's over, William."
His lips pressed together in a firm line, lips that had kissed her not ten minutes ago.
"It hasn't even begun." His voice and gaze smoldered. He made no attempt to hide the slide of his eyes down her body, resting on her soulmark before swinging back up to capture hers.
Gwen wet her lips and miraculously found the cool distance the Roux kept. "And it never will. Goodbye, William."
She didn't wait for his response, nor for her soon-to-be sisters to follow. Gwen walked stiffly to the staircase and began to climb, all too conscious of the whispers and stares aimed at her back. Seconds later, Antonia was at her side, her emerald skirt gathered in her hands and hiked up past her shins.
"That was brilliant," she breathed, keeping close to Gwen's side. "Just keep moving."
Moving was easier said than done when it felt like her body was giving up on her, her legs, her spirit, her heart. And her tears were back with a vengeance. She cursed and began to cry in earnest. Moments later, cool hands steered her in a new direction, and words of love and comfort rang in her ears.
"It will be all right, pet. You did so well. You cannot imagine how proud we are of you."
"He'll never bother you again, Gwen. What you said did the trick. If only you'd stayed to see his face," Poppy said.
The rest of their words were lost to Gwen as she leaned on them to return her to where she belonged. Back to her gilded cage. Back home to the cold embrace of the Roux.
The following nine nights passed in a blur of constant activity as the sisterhood pampered and prepared the initiates with the centuries’ old secrets of the Roux. The sheer amount of information and attention kept Gwen's mind off what transpired in the Styx. And when she wasn't being melded and shaped by the Roux, she was shadowed.
Laurel took up the role more often than not, but in her absence, Lily or Hazel took up the mantle. The constant company was taking a toll on Gwen. She knew if she could have a few moments of peace, she might be able to right her head and heart. But there was no respite.
She slept with Laurel in her bed.
She showered with Hazel and Lily chattering nearby.
She ate every meal shoulder to shoulder with Antonia and Becca.
Gwen was grateful to an extent for being so thoroughly distracted because it left little time to dwell on her heartache and the revelation of the soulmark, but they persisted nonetheless. Now that Gwen knew her birthmark was anything but, her curiosity begged to know more. But she couldn't broach the subject with her sisters and risk them somehow making the connection. What would happen if they found out? What would they do to William? What would they do to her?
Become a black widow…. Gwen's heart leaped to the back of her throat.
The sisterhood had forgone the usual seven-day interim between tests to squeeze in a week's worth of intense teachings and preparations. Laurel had confided that it was to throw off any potential attacks, but now the final initiation test was only hours away.
Her death was imminent.
With the last of her tincture consumed a week ago, Gwen thought the timing impeccable, and her body agreed. She'd fought to maintain a certain level of stoicism, but by night five, she'd been near tears as her cancer struck out in its fateful rebound. Desperate to hide her condition, Laurel was forced to find a potion to numb her pain—the very thing she'd avoided since the start.
Gwen could barely stomach it, so Laurel sought another remedy. Her efforts resulted in the procurement of an enchanted crescent necklace encrusted with glittering rubies that would numb Gwen's pain.
The enchanted necklace was powerful, affecting her pain receptors along with her emotions and reaction time. Her world was turned to a dull gray, and the sisterhood noticed. Laurel took great pains to explain that it was predeath jitters and the shock of the Beast's fanatical attention. This, of course, led to a renewed effort on the sisterhood's part to reassure Gwen of her decision and the wonderful new life she was about to have.
There was nothing to fear.
It would be painless.
All she had to do was fall asleep, and when she awoke, she'd be reborn a Roux.
The indistinguishable persuasions breezed over Gwen, who offered smile after smile and benign agreements to appease the onslaught.
Poppy cleared her throat and caught Gwen's eye.
"Can we get you anything to eat, Gwen? You're looking a bit… wan. You're not still—" The makeup brush feathering over her cheekbones stopped.
"No," Gwen cut in with a subdued smile that mostly met her eyes. "Food would be lovely. Nothing too heavy, just small bits to snack on." Not that she was hungry. Her appetite disappeared somewhere around night four.
Poppy nodded and snapped her fingers. Hazel rose before she could finish and rushed to complete the task. Their private parlor was quiet, save for the hushed words passed between Lily and Laurel. Violet was elsewhere, helping prep the stage for the final initiation test and subsequent baptism.
"I hope our sisters were able to ease your nerves." Gwen hummed an acknowledgment, her eyes closing as the soft blush brush passed over her cheeks once more. "I feel we failed you and the other initiates."
Gwen cracked her eyes open, the only measure of her surprise drawn in the small uptick of her pulse. "What do you mean?"
"Our motto, Semper Paratus, means ‘always ready.’ But we weren't, were we? We thought ourselves infallible… untouchable. We paid dearly for our arrogance, but rest assured, Gwen, it will not happen again." Gwen nodded, struck speechless not only by the burgeoning intensity of Poppy's words but the contradiction of her youthful appearance and the centuries of wisdom in her eyes. "Will you forgive us?"
Gwen blinked and summoned another soft-edged smile. "Of course."
Poppy sighed in contentment. "Good. Pout, please." Gwen did as she was asked, watching as Poppy plucked a chrome tube from the vanity and uncapped it. Gwen glimpsed the dusty shade of rose before it coated her lips. "Now, blot." Gwen obliged, blotting her lips with the slip of paper Poppy held poised at her mouth. "Perfect. Here, look."
She twisted to study her reflection in the vanity's mirror and was met with the sight of a woman she hardly recognized. Her skin held a dewy, healthy flush that shimmered with flecks of gold underneath the light. The expert application of eye shadow and mascara made her look wide awake.
"You're an artist, Poppy," Gwen said, infusing her words with admiration.
Poppy preened. "I'm the best. If there's one final touch to add, I'd suggest switching your necklace with something a little bolder. I have just the thing in mind."
"The necklace stays," Laurel called over. "It's my special gift to Gwen. A reminder that she’s achieved what she covets above all else: eternal life blessed by the night itself. She promised she'd wear it tonight."
Poppy's eyes rolled up and then back down to Gwen at Laurel's steel-coated insistence. "Of all the flavors, she chooses salty. Typical Laurel," Poppy mused with a teasing smirk. "Don't worry. I won't make a fuss over the necklace."
A soft hum emerged from Poppy, her cool fingers teasing the curled strands framing Gwen's face. Her chestnut eyes stared at Gwen without seeing. The tune of her absentmindedness came to an abrupt halt a moment later.
"Did Danica speak to you?
Gwen blinked. An echo of trepidation ballooned in her chest before being smothered by the necklace. "No." She cleared her throat, fighting back the sting inside her lungs, and offered a grin of sorts, not quite there but clearly trying. "But if it was anything like the others, by now, it's quite unnecessary."
"It wasn't about your insecurities," Poppy explained, stepping back and tucking her cinnamon hair behind both ears. "It was about him." She cast a sly look beneath half-tipped lashes, studying Gwen's reaction, but the necklace tempered that as well. "William." Her head canted slightly to the side.
Gwen glanced at Laurel and found her sire-to-be and Lily watching their exchange mutely.
"What about him?"
Poppy picked up her humming tune once more, the soft melody at odds with her hawkeyed regard. A shoulder lifted and adopted an easy smile. "She wished to tell you how proud she was of you. She's pleased you didn't follow in her footsteps." The smile softened along with the predatory edge of her gaze. "She didn't want that heartache for you, and neither did we. We should never have allowed you to enter into such a game with him."
"It's all right," Gwen asserted passively. "I handled it in the end, didn't I?"
"You did, and admirably so. You can't imagine how proud you've made us these past few weeks and how thankful we are that you're ours. This past week has been trying, I know. You've not hidden it well, little sister, but I hope it's shown you that you need never suffer alone. You'll never lack for support or love from us—though it may be overwhelming at times. You'll be thankful for the tight bonds we keep once you’re turned. We'll show you the way, guide and protect you." Poppy glanced over her shoulder at Laurel, smiling fondly before sweeping her gaze back to Gwen. "Laurel would lay down her life for you. Any of us would." She graced Gwen with a smile that stretched ear to ear. "I can't believe tonight you officially become ours."
"She still needs to pass the final test," Lily said. Her head was perched on a curled fist, and her eyes sparkled with mischief from afar. "Though I've no doubt you will with flying colors."
"Of course she will." Laurel's offended scowl brought a round of laughter from the other vampyré. "As if there could be any doubt of her capabilities. She's excelled at each test, crippled the Vranas’ right-hand man, and proved beyond a doubt where her loyalties lie. I've yet to see the other two girls make such efforts."
"Antonia and Rebecca will make fine sisters. Indigo and Cassia wouldn’t have chosen them if they did not implicitly believe they'd add value to the sisterhood," Poppy chimed in. "Tonight will be nothing short of momentous."
Their eyes turned as one to Gwen, whose mouth hung open the barest sliver. "I don't know what to say." Their kindness touched her, and yet the feelings they stirred were just out of reach. Ducking her chin, she struggled to arrange her expression in such a way that would convey her gratitude. Muscle memory played its part, but it lacked the heart of what she wished to share.
Poppy cupped her chin and lifted her head.
"Say nothing at all. You have forever to find the words."
Gratitude swelled again inside her heart, fizzling away before ever reaching its full potential. Gwen clung to its tail ends and mustered a sincere smile. Poppy stroked her fingers along her jaw.
"I only wish we'd been able to put more meat on your bones before tonight," Poppy lamented, her tongue hitting the back of her teeth to reaffirm her displeasure. She guided Gwen's face this way and that, viewing her at different angles. "You'll need your strength once you're turned."
Gwen tilted away from Poppy's cold touch. "What do you mean?"
"Only that the transition is easier when the body is in good health. That's not to say you aren't in good health, but you are rather frightfully thin, Gwen. Thankfully, there's no doubt your mind and spirit are in prime condition, and really, those are the parts that matter most once you're a vampyré. Strength in the body can always be nurtured, but it takes far longer to condition the mind and spirit to live as we do."
Gwen wasn't so sure her mind and spirit were as strong as Poppy made them out to be; she was merely holding out. She glanced at the clock on the adjacent wall. Only a few more hours, and all she'd wanted would be hers: everlasting life.
"I'm back!" Hazel cheerfully announced as she entered the private parlor and boudoir. "And with provisions!" She brandished two bottles of champagne and glided over to the trolley bar.
"You were meant to bring back food."
"I wasn't able to find any food." Hazel tossed a defensive pout over her shoulder as she uncorked a bottle with a pop. "The dormice shifters cleaned out the cupboards in preparation for the turning. We won't be needing that human food once they're turned tonight."
Hazel dutifully ignored Poppy's glare as she handed out the champagne, all spiked a hazy red except for Gwen's. The bubbles tickled the inside of her mouth pleasantly as she languidly sipped.
A knock sounded at the door. The sisters went still in unison, sharing obscure looks with one another before Poppy rose to answer the call. The door cracked open, but whoever stood behind it was blocked from Gwen's view, half by the door, half by Poppy. Though Gwen caught the soft edges of whispered words, their conversation was safe from her ears. She looked to the others to interpret their reactions. An echo of dismay and dread pulsed weakly inside her at their frowning faces before the emotion faded.
Poppy returned as the door closed succinctly behind her. She made a show of finishing her drink, tipping her head and glass back at an uncomfortable angle.
"What is it?" Gwen asked.
Poppy sighed and set her glass on the vanity's edge. "There will be no initiation or baptism tonight, Gwendolyn. I'm sorry."
Shock spiked through her, potent and clear before slipping away like a memory. On its back rode a dagger of pain. She stood, gripping the vanity with white knuckles.
"Why?"
"Sit down, dearest. I know this is a shock, but please, relax. Just because it isn't happening tonight doesn't mean it's not happening at all. In fact, it's being rescheduled as we speak."
Gwen locked eyes with Laurel, trying to convey the litany of emotions cropping up before they sifted away from her. "Why?"
"Sabotage."
Poppy was there to save Gwen from hitting the floor, though she couldn't save her champagne glass. It tinkled brightly as it shattered against the floor. Gwen clutched her necklace. Laurel's throat bobbed as she held Gwen's horror-struck regard.
The potency of her emotions was overwhelming the magic of the necklace, and the crack in its powers allowed for her other ailments to resurface as well. Her body's pain and fatigue. Her heart's longing and ache.
"I need to sit," Gwen said as Poppy helped her back to the vanity's bench.
"Hush now," Poppy instructed, stroking her hair and petting the side of Gwen's face. "Hush, Gwen. There's no need to get so worked up. We're all much too eager for you to join the sisterhood to go any longer than a week. And in that time, we'll have eliminated whoever had the gall to test our tempers again."
Gwen latched on to Poppy's reassurance, succumbing to the numbing enchantment once more and sinking into her seat. Her back hunched as she leaned her head into the cradle of Poppy's palm. She closed her eyes, her mind dizzy from the mix of worry and cloudy magic.
"What's a week more?" Poppy said glibly. As Gwen opened her eyes, she spied the small, encouraging smile on Poppy's face enticing her to return one in kind. Gwen swallowed, gaze darting to Laurel whose troubled frown remained, then back to Poppy.
She forced herself to nod and curve her lips up. "Of course. It was silly for me to overreact."
"Exactly," Poppy reaffirmed. She straightened, smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress as she did. "And now that you've been given more time, we can work on filling you out. Come, girls, let's leave Laurel to tend to Gwen while we search for something for her to eat."
They left, each pressing a kiss to Gwen's cheek before they did.
Once the door was closed, Laurel was before her on her knees, both hands clasped around Gwen's.
"I'm so sorry, pet."
"What did she mean by sabotage? What happened?"
Laurel's face tightened. "The room we prepared for your final test was ruined. The vandals made a point of defacing several of the walls with slurs: ‘leeches,’ ‘parasites,’ ‘maggots.’ The culprits will be found and dealt with. I'll hunt them down myself." Scrutinizing Gwen's placid and wan face, she pinned on a reassuring smile. "The initiation will happen in no time. Give it a night or two—"
"She said a week," Gwen interrupted, squeezing Laurel's hands tight. Her distraught emotions clambered forward uselessly. "Will I be able to survive that long with the necklace?"
Laurel gazed back at her, eyes hard as stone. "You have to."
XXIII
T
he sisterhood rushed to make amends for the failed initiation in the only way they knew how: with a grand party. A masquerade, to be exact. They took the entirety of the following evening to prepare for it while a small sect hunted down the culprits of their ruined initiation. The initiates were kept entertained at the Turkish baths and with a midnight rendition of Verdi's La Traviata.
It was a lovely night, all things considered. The baths proved rejuvenating, and the opera was enthralling, but they'd both fallen flat as their individual charms were waylaid by Gwen's enchanted necklace.
At least she didn't have to suffer. The bursts of her acute myeloid leukemia she was exposed to thus far were excruciating, but the knowledge that she was still dying but unable to feel the majority of her pain was downright disturbing.
Gwen's hands clenched involuntarily in the silken folds of her gown, only to have the backs of said hands slapped in rebuke.
"You'll wrinkle the fabric. Now, just stand there and let me admire you a moment."
Lily retreated after tipping Gwen's chin up a pinch and nudging her shoulders back. With Lily off to the side, Gwen was awarded a full view of herself in the rococo mirror. Her jaw dropped in awe.
Ivy skirts flared from her hips, detailed in shimmering golden vines. She stopped herself short of crushing the delicate silk between her fingers once more and instead flattened her palms against her abdomen. The corseted top fit her like a second skin thanks to the laces dancing up its back. It offered up the illusion of cleavage with its snug fit and sweetheart cut, made all the sweeter by the tulle fabric dolloped over her upper arms to achieve an off-the-shoulder look. With Poppy's artful touch, her face looked fresh and dewy, a vibrant red stained her lips, and a smoky edge darkened her eyes. She felt like a flower in bloom with her hair pinned up and tendrils falling at their leisure around her head.
