Page 49 of How to Seduce a Slender

“Well…” Agatha whined, tugging at her skirt again. “I may have been dressing you in flowers and rose colors just to…catch his eye.”

Melody let out a snort. “Agatha, as if I needed any help being the center of Smith’s attention. The man doesn’t even like flapjacks! And he came every other day for three years just to eat the worst meal on the menu and terrible coffee. And, it’s not like I wasn’t flirting with him either. I mean, if he had asked me on a date—and I mean, back before I got my noggin’ knocked into—I would have said yes. And I don’t date regulars. But he’s funny, charming, and dragons above know a girl could use a kind man with money. I didn’t need help catching the Slender’s eye.”

Agatha snickered, “I wasn’t doing it for that. I was doing it in hopes of moving things along. Smith is a thinker. He strategizes how to file paperwork for efficiency. If he could overthink something, he will. And, I didn’t want him to overthink this.”

“This?” Melody glanced around.

Agatha motioned at her broadly. “Yes, this. If he had his way, he’d still pine after you like a lost puppy dog.”

As if Smith was ever the lost one.Melody shook her head. “I’m going to take a bath before you get me in trouble with the guy who slurps up my dreams.”

Agatha giggled, leading Melody toward the bathroom in a faux conga line. “Go, go, let me run you this bath and then leave you to your scrubbing, Ms. Melody. And when Smith gets home, you can show him what an obedient ward you’ve been. Maybe he’ll bring back something from town as a treat? Oh, I do hope he brings home something fun. Maybe a skeleton that dances or pie…ooooh, pie would be delightful. Lady Rosemont didn’t have time to bake dessert for us.”

Agatha flitted around Melody, headed for the claw footed tub. Melody worked slowly to remove the fabric from her body as Agatha cranked on the faucet. The tub was pressed against the far wall. A large, porcelain tub on four, onyx clawed feet. Its handles were copper with ruby’s pressed into the ends of the handle. The pipes, exposed and running down the wall, rattled as steaming water poured down into the tub. A rectangular room that was skinny with a mirror that ran the entire length of the room like wallpaper. There were exposed rafters with cobwebs that hung delicately like doilies. The floor took a small dip in the center with a drain, but otherwise the room was flat with limited counterspace that ended before the tub. Melody wrapped a towel around her body as Agatha busied herself filling the water with salts. Lavender and shea butter wafted around her.

“Now, in you go, before Mr. Grumpy Pants finds out I kept you too long,” Agatha teased, shooing Melody into the tub. “If you need anything, call, my dear.”

“Thanks,” Melody chuckled, stepping into the tub and immediately melting. Like chocolate over a broiler, like cheese in the oven, she sank into the water and spread out till she had no bones. Toes pressed against the opposite end, nose barely above the bubbles, nothing but suds and warmth to stew in. Melody let her eyes slowly close. It was just for a moment. Just…a long…quiet…moment.

Something skittered to the right of her. Melody’s eyes fluttered open. Upon the marble countertops was the book. On all four legs—two hind, two front—long fingers tapping against the edge. Teeth made of dog-eared pages snapped at her. Melody tried to speak, tried to scream for Haversham, but something was wrong. The water was hotter than it ought to have been. It was thicker too. As she tried to push out of it, it was like pushing through sludge. It wasn’t until her collarbones broke the surface…she realized she was in a bathtub full of thick, viscous blood. Her hands trembled as she pried them from the goop. Globs of burning hot crimson fell from her arms, leaving stringy chunks of flesh and veins. Melody tried to heave but her body wasn’t working.

Something hot and thick burst over her head like a sick water balloon as she choked on a shriek. Ruby coated the top of her head and dribbled down her sides. Her body, hunched and rigid, tightened even more as she caught movement from the counter. The book bucked backwards then flew at her. Melody screamed for the first time, swinging with all her might. Her fist connected with something…but it wasn’t a journal.

Melody didn’t even realize she’d closed her eyes until she was forced to open them. Her knuckles were clasped in the hand of a young preteen girl. Long blond tresses fell around her pale, cream colored skin. With a singular beauty mark above the curled, left side of her lips, she smirked up at Melody from her side of the bath. Melody was caked in blood that stayed irregularly hot while the girl seemed crystal clean from the collarbone up.

“Who are you?” Melody croaked, trying not to gag at the smell of wet iron filling her lungs. The girl didn’t answer. “Was that your journal?”

The girl said nothing, staring through her soul with ruby eyes and a cute smirk.

Melody tried to pull her hand back…and the girl’s smirk turned sour. Fingers that grew like vines up an abandoned wall, wrapped around her fists down to her wrists. Melody tugged once, nothing. Twice, nothing. “Let. Go!”

Melody snarled, eyes flashing red. Her claws popped out as she tore away from the girl’s grip. Rage pumped through her veins as she struggled to stand…when another wicked water balloon burst over her head and drenched them both in blood.

Melody looked up, and would never forget what she saw. Bodies. A dozen bodies hanging from meat hooks. Parts, ripped apart like a wild beast in a feeding frenzy, with thick chunks of flesh suspended above her. The room was caked in blood. Fingertips smeared sigils into the mirrors. The girl lurched and Melody knew better than to let some sludge stop her. She clumsily ripped her body from the tub and tossed herself onto the tile. She didn’t realize she was screeching until the little girl’s hands tried to cover her mouth.

The bathroom door burst open and like a candle going out, the lights in the bathroom cut out. Melody clawed herself backward away from the tub in a panic. A pair of sturdy hands ripped her off the floor and she only stopped howling when Dahlia spun her around.

“Melody?”

“She—the girl! She’s the journal! It jumped into the water, and she was, there was… There was so much blood.” Melody was a wobbly egg being fried in hot oil. Everything crackled and popped and spat, but nothing seemed to hold still. Not until a towel was wrapped around her and she was dragged into the bedroom. Dahlia pulled a nightgown over her head and wrung out her hair, the wispy edges of Agatha somewhere nearby. But all she could see was the blood. The bodies. Torn apart and hung up like sacrificial cattle.

“Agatha, please get us some tea going?”

“Yes, my lady, right away.”

Melody glanced up as two warm fingers lifted her chin. Slate gray eyes scanned her face. Dahlia was undeniably beautiful. Platinum blond hair that ran down to her hips, round face, full lips; she was an old school beauty that people fawned over in movies. Melody was doing her best to focus on Dahlia’s face as she tended to the wet nest of hair on Melody’s head and not the door to the bathroom. Dahlia had closed it but that didn’t mean anything to Melody. It was one twisted knob away from revealing the horrors behind it once more.

“Okay,” Dahlia exhaled softly, having braided Melody’s hair with her clearly magic fingers. “Now, what happened?”

Melody took a deep breath in. Dahlia settled onto the bed beside her, a warm hand always present on her in some way or form.

“I think maybe I fell asleep, because there’s no way that was real,” Melody confessed. As she shifted to face Dahlia, her heart sank.I’m always going to be Marbles Missing Melody…no one’s going to believe me.“I opened my eyes, and the book was on the counter, I tried to sit up and the tub was full of blood and bits and it was so thick I couldn’t move. Then the book jumped in and there was this girl. She wouldn’t say anything, but she kept smiling at me until I tried to leave. There was so much blood. She’d hung up bodies by these hooks above me. Who does that?”

Dahlia’s face softened as she stroked Melody’s hand. “What else?”

“I tried to climb out of the tub, and she attacked me. That’s when you found me.”

Dahlia nodded. “Could you tell me more about how it looked? What you saw? It’ll help me narrow down whose diary that is, I think. Once we know who the diary belongs to, then it’ll be easier to figure out what they want and why they’re haunting you. My money is on it’s the necromancer playing with your head, since they can’t get close to you, but you’d be surprised.”

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