Page 47 of The Kiss Of Death
“I picked fencing for Mom. Remember that picture you have near your bed? You kept telling me how amazing she was and—”
“I lost her, Dalia,” my father said, his voice breaking. “Going to Pantheon will never make her come back, you know.”
I clenched my jaw. He’d never understood why I felt the need to come here in the first place.
“I don’t want you to do this sport. It’s for those who want to be visible and seek power, not you. Maybe it’s not too late to change your—”
“I’m not a child,” I whispered, my voice trembling. I didn’t need his protection. I was tired of being his weak, afraid little girl. “I like it. Can’t you just be happy for me that I’m happy?”
“Not if you’re making the wrong decisions,” he responded firmly. “One wrong move from you, and you’re coming back home. Do you understand?”
“Right,” I replied tersely.
One wrong move and I’ll be a stay-at-home daughter, seeing the world through the safety of my phone screen, kissing all of my dreams and hopes goodbye.
“I want what’s best for you because I love you. You know that, right?”
My grandmother intervened, slapping my father on the head with a kitchen napkin. “Loving someone isn’t an excuse to act like a jerk. You’ve wiped the beautiful smile off her face! Are you happy now? Give me that phone!”
Grandma took the phone, and Father rolls his eyes. She was the only one who could get through to him.
My dad kept trying to talk. “We should invite Sylas for dinner when you—”
She stepped outside, cutting off my father’s speech, and whispered, “How is the situation with your dear nemesis? Ithought of other tricks. We made a list at church with Bernard and Roger and look—”
She displayed three pages filled with suggestions on the topic of “dealing with a nemesis without commiting a crime.”
I laughed. “It’s okay, Grandma. I think I’ll handle him my way this time.”
She pouted. “Boring. So how’s the party? That top looks beautiful on you. You look just like your mother.” My stomach warmed at her compliment. “Do you have time to talk with your old grandma, or should we reschedule?”
“I always have time for you.”
“Tell me all about school, and don’t leave out any details. I’ve even opened the hundred-year-old bottle.”
I shared my excitement and all of my adventures with Grandma. It made me feel like maybe Mom was listening too, and the guilt of lying to Dad eased with every smile Grandma gave me. But as the clock struck midnight, I knew I had someplace else to be.
“I’ll update you soon, okay?”
Her eyes shone as she winked. “Take care, my flower. And show that arrogant prick how strong you are.”
I didn’t know if she was referring to Mr. Delgado or Levi. Returning to the common room, I found Yasmine engrossed in a card game with a group of girls, effortlessly acing it, and Sylas putting a drunk student on the couch.
I left them and decided to make my way to the library. On my tiptoes, I avoided the librarian, who was engrossed in some fiction monster’s book in her office, and snuck through the door with a forbidden sign that Levi had indicated. It led to the roof. I took the spiral staircase, realizing I’d never done something forbidden before. I was exploring a place no one was allowed to go, and I couldn’t help but smile at the adrenaline rush.
I pushed open the door with a stained glass with doves on it. I was greeted by the vast expanse of the night sky, where stars twinkled like guarded secrets. The fall air carried a brisk chill, brushing against my skin and sending a shiver down my spine.
Taking a confident step onto the balcony, I found Levi leaning against two gargoyle statues like they were his own demons under his command. His hair danced in the breeze, and his hands rested casually in his pockets. He exuded a dark allure that quickened my heartbeat, drawing me in like a magnetic force. Perhaps because I didn’t feel as breakable and weak as paper by his side.
Behind him was the opera house looming in the darkness, like a somber memory. I locked my fist. Grandma called me her flower because she believed a woman was just like one. We could bloom under the right circumstances but also falter if not being taken care of, suffocating in our flower pots. Flowers needed freedom to grow.
Maybe Grandma was right.
Having a nemesis would help me grow out of my pot.
“So you finally came,” Levi’s velvety voice rasped.
My little thief, with her ghostly pigtail braids with pink ribbons, strolled into my sanctuary, her eyes probing every shadow as if expecting monsters to emerge.
