Chapter 80 A bizarre incident
The rest of the night progressed in a blur.
Mozart's Divertimento in D floated across the first floor, drifting in from the sitting Salon, through the portrait corridor, and into the dining hall.
The guests' voices rose above the playful elegance of the music, laughing, jesting, loose-limbed against the free-flowing wine now that dinner was over.
It was a rare sight.
Werewolves and vampires and witches from all seven districts. I searched my memory but could not remember any similar event in the past decade or two.
Strange how I had brought all these people together.
The shared desire to confirm that I would continue on the path to bridge the chasm between our kind and humans in the United States.
My heart was aching now. None of this would have been possible without the Hearthrown Alphas.
I had already lost relevance. In those twenty-four hours after my fall, the world had begun to move on. Forgetting all about the cripple ballerina.
My hand shook as I reached out for a glass of wine.
Dissolution of our marriage would solve all my problems. Whatever this was, happening to my body, turning Rhea into a bipolar she-wolf, it would all end.
So why did it feel wrong? Why was I hesitating?
“Not feeling festive, I see.” Celeste slid into the empty seat beside me.
Half the guests had moved back to the Saloon, the other half were huddled together at the other end of the dining hall, heads bent over a tense game of chess between Luna Octavia and the mayor.
“Watching can be fun too. I don't need to be at the center of it.”
I studied her over the rim of my glass.
Celeste looked the way I imagined Persian queens once did. Deep hazelnut complexion that made the white of her eyes that much whiter.
And I could not help wondering how different, much easier, her life would have been if she hadn't let jealousy eat her up.
Her looks, her talent, that proud carriage, would have shot her far ahead if she invested more in her personal journey than hostile competition with me.
“I thought you would be different in your own house, you know?” She said, and my eyes narrowed a little.
A sudden burst of laughter went up from the other end of the table, and we both turned towards the small crowd surrounding her mother and Hale, still bent over the chess board.
Most of them were drunk.
Just how much wine did Dad push out? It was difficult to get werewolves intoxicated.
“It’s a surprise to see you maintain the same attitude here.” Celeste turned to me, but her voice lacked the usual barbed malice. “I thought you wouldn't need to pretend, and maybe I'd catch you in a slouch instead of that perfect straight-backed grace.”
My eyes popped, “I do not pretend.”
“I’m tempted to believe it.” Her fingers played with the edge of the linen table cloth running down the middle of the table.
“About the Eurotour,” I said suddenly.
“Don’t,” She jerked her head away.
“Please listen.” I leaned forward in my seat, eager to take advantage of this rare opportunity where her heart seemed a little open.
“It wasn’t my intention to hug all the spots to myself. I really had no idea I would win that spot for the Grand Ascension.”
She turned her head back, and her brows lifted in a really?
“Think about it.” I swallowed past my nervousness. “What were the odds that of all the ballerinas, I would get the spot?”
She stared at me, silent.
“I held no hopes for it, that is why I accepted the roles for the Eurotour.”
“And yet you have practiced every day of your life for the same position you did not think you would win.”
My head jerked back at her tone.
I was tempted to point out that I wasn’t the only one who had worked hard every single day with the hope of getting a spot on the Grand Ascension. But that would feel like an attack, so I said, “The odds of winning were extremely low.”
Out the corner of my eyes, I caught mom watching us, brows furrowed in dissatisfaction.
I did not pull away like I usually would. I was fed up with inheriting their enemies.
She, Dad, and the Rosamund couple set Celeste and I up to be rivals from the age of two.
And at twenty-six, we still haven't had any real fights that weren't tied to ballet rivalry.
“You do have low self-esteem.” Her voice broke into my thoughts.
I flinched.
“If I was half as talented as you, Hollywood would have been sick of me.”
I snickered and hastily covered my lips.
She shot me a sideway glance, and then her lips curled up in a small smile. But she shot up immediately.
The conflict in her eyes was heartbreaking.
She seemingly did not know how to handle this realization that her enemy really wasn't the enemy.
And I, too, felt a little foolish sitting here with the woman who had invested immense physical effort and resources into sabotaging me all my life.
I gave her a tight awkward smile, and grabbed my purse.
On my way out, I bumped right into Cedric Clair.
“Oh.” My shoulders jumped as my purse fell to the ground.
He appeared even more flustered, apologizing profusely as he picked up my purse and dusted it.
But the world hushed around us the moment he pushed my purse into my hand. He was staring right into my eyes.
I blinked, taking a step back.
‘I’m sorry, I hope…”
“It’s OK.” I hurried past him, itching to scratch my skin, peel away the sudden feeling of a weird film covering me.
We should leave, I should go home already. Only… that may not be my home anymore.
I hurried past the box wood flowers that Finn and I had walked past only four days ago as I headed straight for the backward. The sky was dark, no moon in sight.
It was with much disappointment that I realized there was no lake here. I should know that, I lived here all my life, but still it disappointed me.
Slipping out of my heels, I sunk my bare feet in the grass, staring down at the diamond toe rings as they winked under the yard lights.
“Miss Grunder?”
I jerked, and spun around to find a maid behind me.
She inclined her head, hands crossed in front of her. “Mom’s calling.”
“Oh,”
She turned around, and started to walk back towards the house.
I had already taken two steps forward, when I felt a sudden chill. “Hold on.” My feet halted.
She hesitated, a split second, but then she turned around with a polite smile.
“Why does she need me?”
The hairs on my arms were standing now. I could not pick her scent. She smelled like… nothing.
Mom and Dad only hired werewolves, but even if she was any other kind of creature, she would have a scent. Even dragons had one.
“I only just left the party,” I continued, keeping my distance. “And I told her I needed air.”
“She mentioned. But something came up. She said she needs you urgently.” The maid tilted her head in apology.
I took a step back.
Not only would Mom never deem it fit to explain the reason she summoned a person, especially to a maid, I had told no one I was coming here.
I looked at the maid now, really looked at her. Under the fluorescent light, her skin looked airbrushed, flat.
She turned around to continue walking, and I gasped.
Her shadow was wrong, detached with weirdly long feet.
I rushed at her, bared my claws and slashed across her back, cutting down from her shoulder blade to her left hip. If I was wrong, she could always heal.
But her blood ran black, soaking into the powdered blue and deep red of her uniform.
She spun around and growled. Her facial tissues moved in an eerie manner, stretching over her bones like slime.
“Night take us.” I gasped. This was a skin walker.