Page 7 of The Soulless Witch

I made my way to the room where the voices were coming from, ready to shovel a cauldron's worth of food into my body. I had barely taken a step inside when something big and furry slammed into my feet. I raised my hand, ready to attack when it…barked.

“Buddy!” Jake shouted, wrapping his arms around the animal’s neck. The dog kept barking at me, black eyes trained on my face as if it knew exactly what I was. It seemed to get even more frantic when the boy moved closer to me. “Buddy, what’s wrong? That’s just Celeste! Don’t be like this. Stop barking at her!”

‘Just a regular dog,’I thought with a relieved sigh, giving the beast a disgusted look.

I didn’t like dogs. They were big and clumsy, and they demanded so much attention. Not to mention loud, clingy and so…intent on pushing their puppy love on you. Even now it was licking the boy’s face while watching me with a warning in its dark, suspicious eyes.

“I hate dogs,” I muttered, looking at the rest of the family. “Get rid of it.”

Kevin and Julia exchanged a long look, seemingly debating it, but before either of them could say anything, the boy shouted, “No, we can’t!”and broke into sobs. I winced as I watched tears run down his cheeks, his sister rubbing his back while the dog whimpered as if I had just ordered it made into sausages.

Sighing, I tried to rein in my frustration. If there was one thing that made me more uncomfortable than dying, it was crying children. Or children in general. I just couldn’t handle looking at the boy’s heartbroken face.

“I meant from the room,” I said, and the anguish fell from the boy’s face. I could swear the other three let out a sigh of relief. Even the dog seemed to settle. “Please,” I added without thinking, cursing myself for it. I didn’t have to be nice to them, they were charmed not to oppose me. But they were so nice and warm, it felt uncomfortable ordering them around like lifeless dolls.

“Okay,” the boy sniffed, rubbing his eyes before catching the dog by the collar. He led him out from another door, which I presumed opened to the backyard, then returned with his head hanging low.

“Let’s eat before it gets cold!” Julia said with renewed enthusiasm, waving toward the already set table. Looking around the bright, cozy room, I let out a long sigh before joining the family as they dug into their food, filling the space with warmth, laughter, and exalted conversations.

Chapter 5

Roman

Switchingthecartoreverse, I slid into the parking spot in the garage while the automatic door was still falling down. The Mercedes purred as I parked it by the other vehicles, the lights dying along with the engine. There were lamps on the walls for the servants that took care of the area, but I could see perfectly fine in the dark, so I didn’t bother with them.

Stepping into the narrow corridor connecting the garage with the rest of the mansion, I waited a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The house was quiet, and the sounds made by the staff were muted even to my ears. With the soundproofing and their excellent skills, it was almost like no one was there. Well, if I didn’t count their hearts. Unlike mine, theirs beat loud and clear, like gongs calling for dinner.

I had barely reached the staircase when my eyes landed on the figure already waiting for me at its base. Dressed flawlessly even though it was almost dawn, Chester bowed from the waist the moment I appeared in his view. I liked old things that reminded me of better times, of happier times, so I designed my home—and my servants—the same way.

Chester straightened up, his black coat brushing the back of his knees. His wing collar dress shirt and gloves were impeccably white, and his black tie perfectly aligned on his narrow chest. The gray vest underneath his coat smoothed the sharp contrast of the colors, matching his short, carefully combed hair. A pair of pale gray eyes dulled with age and horrors, seen and forgotten, met mine. He was the oldest servant I had, well over seventy, and he had spent fifty of those years serving in my homes of his own accord.

“Welcome home, Master,” he greeted in his quiet, respectful tone, his gaze not wavering even when he noticed my crumpled clothes and the blood on them. “Would you need any medical assistance?”

I almost snorted at the suggestion. We both knew that a doctor would be of no use to me. Except for maybe attaching severed limbs, but Chester had become quite proficient at that already. My injuries healed themselves unless especially grave, but even then, I just needed to ingest more blood to speed up the process. Which is what the question was about.

Since most of my servants were humans and they didn’t know of my true nature, we had come up with discrete ways of asking questions that could send a normal person straight to the police.

‘Do you need medical assistance?’meant‘Do you need blood?’

‘Do you need a change of sheets?’meant‘Do I need to dispose of the body?’

‘Do you need a new attire?’meant‘Do I need to find a new donor?’

“Yes, medical assistance would be good.” I nodded, striding up the stairs. It wasn’t that I was badly hurt, or that I was hungry, but with my excitement making my head spin, it was better to have my hunger fully sated instead of making mistakes from acting on impulse.

I heard him follow, his steps barely audible even to my hearing. He said nothing until we reached the master bedroom, seemingly having no trouble keeping up despite his age. I shrugged off the suit jacket and handed it to him before discarding the shirt and the pants. He draped them over his arm one by one, watching with passive eyes as I headed toward the private bathroom connected to my bedroom.

After washing away the blood and dirt, I went back to the bedroom to find Chester waiting, my ruined suit nowhere in sight. Hands behind his back, he looked at me expectantly and, for the millionth time since I’d known the human, I wondered if he was a psychic. When I had mentioned it once, he had said that it was part of his job to read his master’s moods and needs, but even that didn’t explain his uncanny ability toknowwhen something was troubling me.

I had hundreds of years to learn how to mask my emotions, so I was extremely good at it. How was it possible for a human of barely seventy years to read me so easily? Was I getting sloppy?

“I found her,” I said as I made my way toward the vintage armoire that graced one of the walls. I watched the butler from the corner of my eyes, his only reaction being a slight arch in one of his brows.

“Madame Celeste?” he asked. He had never met her, but I had needed someone to help me monitor for signs of her awakening. “Is she awake again?”

I nodded, thinking of that forest, of the black earth and the gaping hole where the hunters had dug to find her body. They had been too late—just like me. Part of me regretted missing her, but the other part was glad—if she had still been there, they would have gotten their hands on her first. She didn’t have her magic when she crawled from the earth after each awakening—it took her months, years even, for enough of her powers to return to her after each rebirth.

“Start a city-wide search for her,” I ordered, slipping into a pair of silk night clothes. I preferred sleeping naked, but with others in the house that was ill-advisable, even if nobody had dared to venture into my room. Not counting that one time when Celeste had tried to kill me, of course. “Hire whoever you need to. Use the portraits I showed you and the photographs I have from before. She wouldn’t have changed much. She might even look younger since she always comes back at the same age.”

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