Page 10 of Sound
Mind spinning and fear bringing all sorts of scenarios to my mind, I squeeze the boot so tight the heel almost digs a hole in my chest. Has Seraphina decided to start bringing men in this room? Is my music no longer enough for her? Will she now pimp me out to anyone who wants me? All the blood drains from my body at the thought, and a numbness like a tidal wave spreads through my neck and skull. Dark spots dance at the corners of my eyes and I’m hyperventilating. With one last hiss, a man walks through the wall.
Through the fucking wall.
“You.” I’m not sure if I speak out loud or I just think the word.
Blue eyes widen in surprise, and Salmon releases a smug meow from beside me. Frozen in place, there is only one thing screaming like a siren in my head:It’s him. It’s the guy from the club. He found me.With that last internal shout, I do what every stupid girl does in all the low-budget horror movies.
I faint.
And it’s really not one of my finest moments.
8
Étienne
This is what I get for following a supernatural cat through magic-infested grounds. Cursing up a storm, I cringe from the dust and cobwebs that cling to my skin and clothing while trudging through the darkness. Even with my sight I can’t penetrate the pitch black, which tells me this is not an ordinary tunnel. It’s a passage through the wards, a loophole—probably the very one I’ve been searching for. The top of my head brushes against the ceiling and something sticks to it. I shudder. If only Lucien could see me now, he’d have a field day teasing me. As if cleanliness and appreciation of the fine things in life is a crime or something.
The tip of my shoe hits a dip in the ground and pitches me forward. Stumbling, more curses hiss from my lips as my arm shoots out to catch myself before I fall into whatever covers this floor. No matter what it may be, I’m just glad I can’t see it because the squishing sound my feet make is enough to raise all the hairs on my body. Grinding my teeth, I pull my hand back from where presses against a moss-covered stone. At least I make myself think it’s moss because otherwise I may not keep going. Wiping my palms on my pants, I continue forward, my lips twisting in aversion.
A distant, high-pitched sound penetrates the darkness from up ahead, but it’s too low for me to hear it if comes from a male or female. Moving faster, I can’t stop the onslaught of choice words that probably make my father turn in his grave.
“I’m going to skin that damn cat and string it up by its tail.” Grinding the words through clenched teeth, I push further into the tunnel.
Reaching an area where the air is so dense I have to force my way through it, I call up my mist and wrap it around me like a cloak. It makes it easier to pass but not by much. Something whispers at the center of my chest, just a gentle, hesitant brush of energy that’s gone too fast for me to examine it closely. Shaking off the feeling and releasing the mist, I ram through the tunnel with everything I’ve got.
Bursting out of the darkness, the dim yellow light makes me squint. The next moment, my gaze connects with wide, dark eyes on a pale-as-a-ghost face and I barely stop myself from gawking. The girl—the one with the violin—is standing across the room, her back pressed to the wall behind her as if she’s trying to meld with it and disappear. She is hugging something to her chest, but I can’t see it since I can’t tear my gaze from her face. Dark circles spread like smudges under her eyes, accentuating her pale skin. Her full lips are parted in shock, but even with all that, she is still the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.
“You.” The word is just a breath wrenched from her chest, but it reaches my ears as if it’s a shout.
My heart thunders against my breastbone, my chest getting too tight to allow oxygen into my lungs. I stand frozen, my legs like lead glued to the ground as I continue to stare at her. All thoughts flee my head, leaving it an empty desert with strong winds deafeningly echoing in my ears. Her soul-piercing eyes roll to the back of her head and she goes limp, crumpling on the floor.
I have never moved as fast as I do in this moment.
The back of my hand takes the impact where I hold her head in my palm. My other arm snakes around her narrow waist to pull her to my chest. She looks like a porcelain doll, small and fragile in my arms. Long, dark lashes cover the circles under her eyes, which are closed and unmoving. I want her to open them, to look at me more than I’ve wanted anything else in centuries. Soft breaths puff out from her parted lips, which calms the urge to destroy things that clamors inside me. With great effort, I lift my head and let my gaze turn from her face to the room.
The room is small, as big as the linen closet we have in the house. Stained walls press around me on all sides, a tiny bed no more than a pallet pushed to my left and a small desk with a tall mirror resting against the wall I used as an entrance. Black clothing is folded neatly at the edge of the mattress, and one stylish boot with a thin high heel is lying next to the only chair. A gray wooden door is next to where I’m kneeling while hugging the girl to me like someone might snatch her. The cat squats at the center of it all looking smugger than my brother Lucien when he is right about something, which is rare.
Warmth spreads through me like what I imagine the rays of the sun may feel like, though it is a pleasure I’ve never known. Nonetheless, the feeling startles me, so I lower my gaze to the girl in my arms. My eyes lock on hers where she watches me, the whites overtaking the dark color of her irises. The moment our gazes meet, my heart gives a hard lurch.
“Hello,” her soft voice rasps before she clears her throat and swallows thickly. She doesn’t move or try to get away, which makes the beast in me roar in approval, and the shock that courses through me at this renders me mute. “Who are you?” The sound passing her lips is more beautiful to my ears than the music she plays.
"Parle encore ma petite, j'aime le son de ta voix." Murmuring to her, I search her face, my chest rising and falling faster the longer I hold her in my arms.
“I have no clue what you just said in European, but it sounded beautiful.” She bites her lip as soon as the words are out, her cheeks pinking in the process. I gawk like a fool. “I mean, I know European is not a language because Vi actually told me that. Not that I didn’t know it before she pointed it out. By the sound of the rolling “R” in your accent it’s French, right? Of course it’s French. No one else speaks like they want to melt your panties off with just words.” Sucking in a lungful of air, her cheeks get a little redder with every word she speaks, and that makes the edges of my lips twitch. “Apart from Spanish. That language can also melt your panties. Oh my God, I’m blabbering like a moron but I can’t stop myself. I have no idea why I’m talking to you about melting panties. Please tell me you don’t speak English. Or just kill me now. That’s an option on the table too, just so you know.” Groaning, she lifts her arms and covers her face with her hands.
“Si belle. Une telle innocence ...” I want to remove her hands so I can keep looking at her but I don’t want to let her out of my arms.
“You don’t speak English.” She peeks at me through her fingers warily, the words muffled from the hands. “Of course, you don’t. Out of all the hot girls drooling over you in the club you came to talk to me.” Lowering her hands and letting me see her face, she blows out a breath. “You probably thought I was working there, huh, and you wanted to ask where the bathroom was? I should’ve known the second a hottie like you acknowledged me.”
I drink her in, searching her eyes for something I cannot name. Well aware I should help her up and release her, I can’t find it in me to remove my arms from her body. If it lasts longer, I have a nagging feeling they’ll have to pry her out of my dead hands. I must be staring at her for too long, or maybe I just look like an idiot because she offers me a too-bright smile, which confuses the hell out of me. And that’s when it hits me. Everything she said washes over me, as well as the fact I have been speaking to her in my own language.
“I said, ‘speak again little one, I love the sound of your voice.’” One side of my mouth lifts slightly when her eyes widen comically. My fingers move in her hair, the silky strands gliding over my skin. “And then I said, ‘so beautiful, such innocence.’” She gawks with her mouth hanging open. My smile grows. “That night I wanted to learn your name. I was most definitely not looking for the bathroom … Melody.” She shivers at the sound of her name on my lips. So do I.
With an outraged shriek, her legs jackknife and she kicks me in the groin. My eyes cross and I release her as I hunch over in pain. Her small hands shove hard against my chest, catching me off guard and sending me on my ass where I cough pathetically with my hands clutching my bruised balls.
I knew I should’ve released her sooner.
9
