Page 9 of Sound
There is not enough air on this street to inflate my lungs. The cat creeps further away and I realize a deep growl is rumbling in my chest. Swallowing the sound, I breathe through my nose, my nostrils flaring. The desperate look on her tear-streaked face is like a punch to my chest. It almost doubles me over.
I’m not sure why I care. I haven’t cared about anything apart from finding a way to go back home in a very long time. But I can’t find it in me to walk away. Everything else be damned. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. But before I dive in head-first against magic and witches, I have to know one crucial thing that’s been bothering me from the moment I set eyes on her.
“Is she human?” Holding my breath, I watch the cat like a hawk. My answer is a flick of a tail and an unblinking stare boring into my eyes.
“I knew she couldn’t be human.” Having it confirmed—even by a cat—is enough to build an urgency in my gut. “Okay, I’m ready when you are. Lead the way.”
7
Melody
“Idon’t think the bitch needs anything else to kill me.” Huffing in annoyance, I roll my head while staring at the walls. “I’ll die of boredom in a week.”
Scratching absently at my ribs where the wires of the corset left bruises, I’m scared to close my eyes. Since the day I was trapped here, nobody has ever stayed after the music stops.
Until last night.
Does that mean he can come and go at will? How? More importantly, how did he find me? The questions swirling through my mind make me dizzy. This has to be a coincidence. What are the odds that I meet this guy a day before I’m brought here to be trapped in a nightmare? Seraphina’s murmured words pop into my head.“No way she found out what she is, or what she can do.”
What does that even mean?
It has everything to do with my music, that much I know. The night the three of us played at the annual concert and people died, I knew something was wrong. As much as I’d love to place the blame on someone else, or believe the tabloids about a chemical terrorist attack, I can’t. People died looking like dug out mummies from an archeologist’s dream. One moment they were dancing, and the next they dropped like flies while I was buzzing with so much energy my skin felt too tight to contain me. So I can’t find it in me to place it at someone else’s feet. We did that.
I did that. But how?
There are too many why’s and how’s for my mushy brain to piece together right now. Being locked in this room, though, I don’t have anything better to do. Even Salmon left me, too bored with my miserable mood. Not that I blame the cat. Leaving me doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right now.
Sighing, I roll on my stomach and fold my arms to cushion my head. Bones protesting at the movement, I wiggle around until I’m kind of comfortable—if laying on a rock can be considered that. Seraphina usually brings the damn poison she makes me drink after I play but she skipped it today. She was either too high on whatever she takes from me, or the guy pissed her off.
A smile stretches my lips.
They may be working together or against each other, but I don’t care. Anyone that pisses her off is good in my book. If pain doesn’t follow, I will piss her off every chance I get. It’s the little things that matter when your life goes to shit, and boy has mine gone haywire. I thought dealing with my depressed, always unhappy, and critical mother was a bad life. It gave me enough issues for a lifetime of therapy—if I ever decide to deal with it. I’m a psychologist’s dream. Seraphina has shown me how wrong I’ve been because that life was wonderful compared to this one.
A shuffle and a scrape against the wall behind the mirror jerks my head up. Staring intently at it for a while and holding my breath, I see nothing. Snorting at my excitement, I put my cheek down and press it on my arms. I think Salmon is coming back. Talking to a cat is better than talking to myself, or thinking.
Something darts into the room.
With a shriek, I bolt upright, banging my head on the wall at my back. My teeth rattle and stars dance in front of my eyes from the impact. Pressing a hand to keep my heart inside my chest, hysterical laughter bubbles up. The kicking of my heartbeat moves my arm, and it’s too painful to be ignored. Panting, I scowl at Salmon, who is eyeing me like I’m an idiot while he licks his paw.
“That was not nice.” My voice stutters, matching the galloping in my ribcage. “You gave me a heart attack.”
If a cat can raise his eyebrow, I’m pretty sure Salmon does. Either way, he somehow manages to make me feel dumb. Pausing with his paw lowered in front of his face, he gives me a pointed look before resuming his grooming.
“Leave it to a cat to be an asshole.” Blowing out a breath, I plop down on the bed. “No scratches for you at all today.”
Something rattles behind the wall and the mirror shifts just enough to curdle my blood. My gaze flicks from it to Salmon, assuring myself that I’m actually seeing the cat inside the room. Cold sweat dampens my palms.
“Did you hear that?” Whispering because I’m too afraid to speak louder, I crawl off the bed.
Another scrape sounds and this time the vanity rattles from the hard thud against the wall, causing all the makeup to fall haphazardly on it (I might’ve turned OCD while here and arranged them by height and in groups). Feeling cold all over, my skin prickles with goosebumps as I stare at the wall like it’ll come to life and attack me. Salmon, on the other hand, doesn’t have my issues. He continues going to town on his paw, licking away like there is no tomorrow.
I glare at him.
Aren’t cats supposed to be skittish and bolt at sudden noises? Turning away from the weirdo, I look around the room not sure what it is I’m looking for. A weapon? Can you defend yourself against something by brandishing mascara? I guess I can poke their eye out with it, because God knows I’ve done it enough times to myself and it hurts like the dickens. Taking a step to do just that, I see the lump from the corner of my eye next to the chair and I want to cry in relief. As fast as I can, I snatch one of the high-heeled boots I kicked off after Seraphina left this morning.
Retreating until the back of my knees bump against the bed, I clutch the boot to my chest. Cold sweat trickles down my back and tremors claw at my spine. Salmon is not exactly your typical cat, and since this is a nightmare, I don’t know what other monsters can come inside this room. Considering everyone else seems to waltz right in whenever they choose, I guess it’s been made to keep me in.
Soft murmurs reach my ears and get louder by the second. I’m either insane or someone is getting closer, and by the sounds coming my way, they are cursing up a storm under their breath. I don’t understand the words they are speaking, though. It has to be a different language, or perhaps the thundering of blood in my ears is preventing it. I only know one thing for sure: someone is coming, and it’s a man.
