Page 25 of Blood and Hexes

The Dark Hall

Diana was a light sleeper, and even at her most exhausted, she rarely ever crashed for more than six hours at a time. Since being turned, in any case. In her childhood, it had seemed all she'd done was rest.

She woke up feeling completely boneless, groggy, and so very fatigued. Grabbing her phone, she blinked in surprise. It was already past three in the afternoon. She must have gone to sleep around six or seven at the latest, which meant that she'd slept for eight full hours.

To be fair, she felt calm here. At peace. The room was cozy. More than cozy. It was perfectly designed to relax her: the wooden panels, dreamcatchers, and thick fluffy rugs were exactly the sort of things she’d picked on the few occasions when she'd had a chance to design a place herself. There was no doubt that Alexius had had it changed to suit her. The bathroom was another delight: the dark room's centerpiece was a pool with crystals, candles, and tons of quirky bubble baths. Strange that after so long, he still seemed to know her.

After sniffing various jars and bottles of vibrant products, she poured a few in the gigantic pool and drew a bath. She was still wrinkling in the fast-cooling water when someone knocked on her door.

She identified Avani's specific scent—something spicy, with a hint of vanilla and something wilder. Something lupine.

"It's open," she called.

Her brother's mate appeared in the door of the bathroom. "Amazing, right?" She grinned. "Alexius let me stay here for a few nights when I got kicked out of the Wolvswoods. I totally borrowed some of your clothes, by the way."

She made air quotes at "borrowed."

"I have clothes?" Diana asked, surprised.

She didn't think any of her old frocks would have survived the passage of time. Not without spells to keep them intact. She didn't see why Alexius would have bothered. Diana's clothing had been functional and simple. She'd never been allowed to attend any form of amusement where an elaborate gown would have been appropriate. She hadn't been particularly attached to her wool and linen dresses then, and she certainly wasn't likely to wear any of them. Maybe she could give them to a museum.

"Yeah, I think Alexius had your closet filled. I bet you'll like it."

Diana smiled. It sounded exactly like something Alexius would do.

"What can I help you with?" she asked Avani.

"I'm about to head up to Skyhall to train with the girls. I figured I'd ask if you wanted to join us."

Skyhall. Presumably "the girls" would include the youngest Eirikrson.

Chloe had gotten under Diana's skin the previous night. In a good or bad way, she couldn't tell yet. She wasn't sure she wanted to see her again, but she did want to get to know Avani. If she was going to build some sort of relationship with her estranged brother, she needed to get along with his mate—his wife.

"Sure. Just let me get out of the bath and put something on."

"Great, I'll wait for you downstairs."

Emerging from her bedroom, she opened the wardrobe out of curiosity rather than digging clothes out of her traveling bag. Her face broke into an involuntary grin. Avani had been right; she liked everything in there. The fringed vests, the leather pants, the colorful long, flowing dresses. It was more than mere coincidence that every single thing Alexius had picked aligned with her tastes. She would have bet just about anything that he'd been following her on social media, just like she had him. She could have asked herself why he hadn't reached out, but she knew it was for the same reason she hadn't. Though she loved her brother, he represented a painful part of her past. There was nothing but layers of wounds and scars, patched up with stitches, from their early days. Their father had been cold at best, cruel at worst. Their mother had been overbearing, overprotective of Diana and ashamed of Alexius. Not for any logical reason. Alexius hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Well, at least not before being turned. And no matter how silly it was, they reminded each other of that time. She couldn't think of Alexius without thinking of Solene and Vincel Helsing. May they rest in peace. Or hell. That might be where they belonged. It wasn't fashionable to admit to disliking one's parents, but as she grew older, Diana had slowly come to understand just how much the couple had damaged her, Alexius, and their relationship.

To seal an alliance with the Rosedeans, Vincel Helsing agreed to marry one of their daughters. He picked Solene, the youngest, and molded her to his liking until she was turned at twenty-five. Since she'd been a little girl, she'd known that she would have to marry him. Vincel vetted everything—her friends, her education, what she was allowed to wear or say. Solene might have been the perfect wife from the outside, but Diana knew that she'd hated her life. What their parents had had was cold.

There was something else, something she'd never voiced out loud, although she was fairly certain her theory had merit. The way Vincel, as sexist as any man from the 1100s, had no interest in Alexius, and doted on Diana, suggested that he at least suspected Alexius wasn't his child. He certainly didn't look like any Helsing. The rest of them had dark hair and eyes, and a Mediterranean look, like their founder. Alexius was all golden hair and blue eyes. And most of all, although he was the firstborn of Vincel, one of the strongest in their family, Alexius hadn't possessed one drop of their family's signature power. Diana didn't know whether Vincel was right. She couldn't imagine her mother rebelling against her husband and having an affair. But she did strongly suspect that her father hadn't considered Alexius his. Another reason why talking to her brother could be awkward.

And yet, it hadn't been yesterday. Things had gone right back to the way they used to be: banter, insults, and teasing.

Diana opted for red suede pants with laced-up sides—these babies were staying with her, right next to her favorite boots—and a white crop top. She almost picked up a jacket, before remembering that she was on Night Hill, not in a human city. There was no need for pretense. No need to blend in. No resident here felt the bite of the cold. She picked ankle boots, and shoved her phone in her pocket before heading downstairs.

Avani was chatting in the entryway with two girls who'd been there last night—or rather, this morning. Scanning her memory, Diana waved her hand. "Greer and Gwen, right?" she asked, pointing first to a sienna beauty with wild ebony curls, and then to a redhead who had to be a cover model. Her pouty lips and green eyes stood out against features that had to have come from somewhere in Asia. India, potentially.

The first chuckled. "Almost. Just the other way around."

Diana winced. "Sorry."

"Girl, no apology necessary," the redhead replied. "I wouldn't have remembered any name at all if I'd been bombarded with a hundred introductions at dawn. You up for getting your ass kicked?"

Diana stared at her, then snorted. "You do realize I'm many times older than literally all of you put together?"

The trio exchanged a knowing glance. Avani grinned at her. "Confidence. We like that."

---