Page 15 of Sonata
10
Melody
“You really think we should wait?” I asked for the fourth time, leaning forward to peer around Étienne’s arm at the depleted building. “If I could hear all that noise, I’m sure you can, too. Something is going on, and I guarantee you it’s not a party.”
“I trust Lucien to do the right thing and be smart on how to go about it.” He even nodded as if to confirm his statement.
“No one doubts your brother…”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Moël chirped from next to us and grinned when I glared at him.
“As I was saying before being rudely interrupted. No one,” I kept my stern gaze on the youngest of the stubborn brothers, “is doubting how capable Lucien is. Especially when it comes to killing or pummeling stuff. You can ask your doors and all the furniture in your own house to attest to that. I’m just saying we need to get in there in case they are in trouble. We can help.”
“We wait.” Étienne was as stubborn as a donkey in the middle of a bridge, refusing to budge.
“I agree with Melody.” I nearly fell around my mate when Moël murmured under his nose.
“Lucien will not…”
“Stop that.” I slapped Étienne’s forearm to shut him up. “I’m Melody now, not Muse. Not even little Muse. Shit just got real.”
“What in the fates name are you talking about, mon chéri?” frowning Étienne twisted around to look down at me.
“Your brothers never call me by my name.” neither do you was left unspoken. “Now that he did it, it means serious business. It screams danger. We should go inside.” I tried, believe me, I did, but he snatched me by the waist and deposited me next to a tree of all things.
“You promised to stay at my side and follow my lead, little mate.” He grumbled. “Do not make me regret my decision to bring you along.”
“You didn’t bring me because I walked on my own two feet.” Sticking my chin up was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it. “Would you listen to me for once?”
“We wait.” He repeated like a broken record, and I clenched my fists. I really wanted to pummel him in the stomach, but I knew I’ll only hurt my hands if I did. It was a tested theory.
“If it was your mate inside, would you have waited?”
Moël joined team Melody, and I barely stopped myself from cheering out loud. Inside though, I was screaming, flinging pom-poms, backflips and all. I never tried cheerleading in high school, but at that moment, it seemed like too much fun. Only if the stubborn guy scowling at me could see it, also.
“My mate might be inside, as well.” Moël nonchalantly rolled his shoulder in a shrug, but he didn’t fool me. He was strung as tight as one of the strings of my violin.
Alto decided to mewl really loud then, and I jumped a foot off the ground.
Étienne snarled at him.
So, I ignored them both.
The area was like a ghost town. The street was empty, apart from the three of us, Alto, and the sparse trees. The Chalice looked haunted with the crumbled walls and shrubs that were growing all over the place. A soft breeze was rustling the leaves of the ivy that crawled up over the ruins, but it wasn’t a pleasant smell that came with it when I felt it on my skin. My nose twitched, and I inhaled deeply, wracking my brain to remember what it reminded me of. It wasn’t like something I was overly familiar with, but I was sure I’d smelled it somewhere. And recently at that.
“If Lucien does not come out in the next fifteen minutes, we will go inside.” Étienne conceded, turning to Alto for confirmation.
Alto was poised to attack, back arched, and the hair on his neck bristled.
“I can’t win with any of you, for fate's sake.” My mate threw both his hands in the air in frustration, but I stopped listening to him a while back.
I should’ve known from the second it reached my nose what it was, but I didn’t. That’s why I would suffer the guilt for everything being my fault. Étienne turned away from me in his annoyance, stomping a few feet away from the tree where he placed me to wait. Moël had his unblinking eyes locked on The Chalice, too distracted by thoughts of his mate being locked up inside to notice anything amiss. Alto had it right from the start, but he couldn’t speak to warn us. The memory of the smell smacked me like a wet sock across the face.
“The dead guy.” I gasped, and Étienne’s head snapped in my direction. “Smell it.” I stabbed my finger at the air, lifting my nose as if showing instead of telling would do the trick.
His nostrils flared a second before seven shadows peeled off of the places they’d been hiding, leaving us to face people dressed all in black, with hoods drawn over their heads. The glow from their eyes told me I wasn’t looking at human hoodlums. The way they moved light and silent on their feet screamed trained killers like a blasting horn from an approaching ship.
Étienne and Moël moved in sync, closing in to block me from view a second before demons from hell descended on us.
