The dinner was lively, everyone, chatting and enjoying themselves, except for me. If Chase and James were having an unpleasant time, their expressions certainly didn't show any distaste. I could barely eat any of the food that was shoved onto my plate, feeling sick to my stomach. They expected us to commit murder, whether that was murder of people or monsters was unbeknownst to me. However, the thought of ending something else's life made me sick.
But you can get revenge for your brother, a voice in the back of my head seemed to loom forward. If you do this, you can make those creatures atone for their sins. Then finally, you can let your brother rest. I set down my spoon for the small portion of dessert that now filled my plate; a petite slice of strawberry cheesecake that had strawberry syrup dribbling down the edges.
James was engaged in a conversation with Marigold, a silver spoon in his grasp. On his own crystalline plate sat a thick slice of chocolate cake, oozing with a darker chocolate syrup. The top of it was covered in frosting that looked similar to mousse in its consistency. I swallowed the anxiety I was feeling, placing my hands in my lap, all the while picking at my already too short nails.
"What's wrong?" A muted question rang from my right, from Chase. I glanced toward him; his gaze slightly softer than earlier. I fiddled with my fingers more, looking back toward them, their placements. All the while analyzing the smooth cut that ran to the apex of my thigh beneath my hands.
"I just," I shook my head trying to find the right words speaking lowly. "Come with me," I said instead, out of fear of anyone else hearing me speak. The dark green of his iris was drowned out by the white of his eye, showing surprise. Chase nodded as I spoke once more, this time louder. "Do excuse me, I wish to freshen up a bit," everyone looked at me, including James, whose gaze immediately snapped to where I was sitting. I stood, pushing my seat backward as I did so.
My mother's silver eyes wandered over to me lazily, her features almost catlike. She nodded faintly, drinking her own glass of wine. Wine that was several shades darker than her own lipstick that lined the rim of the glass. "Do be quick dearest, we wouldn't want our guests to wait," she flashed me an all-white grin, one that said to be quick or there will be consequences.
I bowed ever so slightly to the male in front of me, keeping my gaze fixed on my mother, as I mustered a fake smile. "Of course, I won't be long mother," she held her hand outward in a flat arch that trailed around the table, as though beckoning me to proceed. I did so in none too fast movements to make it seem as though I wasn't in a rush.
I walked past the kitchen to the bottom of the wide staircase, my heels clacking all the while. Not proceeding up them, until I heard the resumption of cheerful conversation. As I continued upward, I crossed the endless halls up to the third floor. Eventually, I heard the soft pad of footsteps trailing me as I entered my room.
I held the door open for Chase as he slipped inside, shutting it as silently as I could once, he was in. He stood stiff in front of me as I held my ear to the door to make sure we weren't being followed. "Well?" He asked, inaudibly.
"Thankfully, I don't think anyone followed us. How'd you manage to leave too? Was my mother not the least bit suspicious?" He shook his head no, as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His suit seemed to shimmer ever so slightly in the dim light of my room, something I'd never noticed before.
"We can talk about that later, for now tell me what happened," Chase spoke in a firm, yet gentle way, attempting to get to the point. Either to leave my bedroom as fast as possible or to heed the silent warning my mother had given, I wasn't sure.
I sighed, locking the door behind me as I pushed past him to take a seat on my bed. Chase stood in the entryway of my bedroom, only spinning on his heel to look at me, keeping a fair distance between us. I gave him a sidelong glance before I started to speak. Recapping him on the anxiety I felt about potentially having to kill people, even if they weren't the same as us. Of how there was now a new team player in the mission who could have the potential to sabotage it, or report to my parents about everything that was happening. About how I didn't feel comfortable about any of it at all. The only piece I left out was the fear I had of what my father had mentioned in his letter to me.
His gaze softened as he walked in front of me, as I sat my head looking to the floor. Chase crouched in front of me, lifting my chin ever so slightly with his left hand, scanning my eyes, my facial features. "I understand how you feel Makayla, killing is never easy, for anyone. It doesn't matter if what we kill is evil, or if they were just wronged in life. It never gets easier. However, if it's what we have to do to stay alive, then that's what we'll do. Regardless of who is a part of this mission, regardless of everything. You, James, and I will protect one another, against any and all opponents, just as we've always done."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as my anxiety seemed to ease. Closing my eyes against his touch. "I'm sorry for my foolish anxiousness, this world is just, different, from what I'm used to."
Chase's thumb swept across the base of my chin, causing me to look at him. His eyes were calm, understanding as he spoke. "I know you don't remember much Makayla, but I trust your instincts, if you don't trust Marigold or anyone else involved, I won't either. It's you, James, and me until the end, okay?" His green eyes shone dimly against the half full moon outside, dark hair falling out of place ever so slightly, lit up, creating a pale blue hue against it.
I stared at his features, my mouth slightly agape as I swallowed, Chase stood, giving me a small smile. In the lighting from the window, he looked stunning, as though the darkness was where he was meant to be. "We should go back downstairs," he said faintly, glancing toward the shut doorway. "Otherwise, the others will get suspicious," his gaze brushed over me, before walking toward the door, unlocking in a way as to not make a sound. "I'll leave first, do what you need to, to 'freshen up,'" he spoke cooly before exiting.
I stood, wandering over to the bathroom, where my lip gloss still sat, safe and sound on the counter. I applied a new amount, shiny iridescent sparkles, glittered on my lips as I made my way out of my room and back down the stairs.
Chase was already reseated, and everyone else was now visible to me. Marigold seemed to be pouting to James, whose boredom almost seemed palpable, and Chase was engaged in conversation with Maddox and my parents. As I strode back into the kitchen James's deep brown eyes made contact with mine, a devilish smile playing on his lips. I rolled my eyes at him, going around the table to take a seat once more.
"Sorry it took me a while, I seemed to have misplaced my lip gloss," I lied, effortlessly, smoothing the skintight dress I wore as I took my seat. Everyone mumbled that it was fine, then resumed their conversations as I picked up my fork taking a bite of the strawberry cheesecake.
It melted in my mouth, flooding my senses with its sweet flavor, the taste of vanilla, of strawberry, of brown sugar. Each cascaded over my tongue in a tangled web of magnificence, I let out a small groan of delight, earning me a sideways glance from James, and a full head turn from Chase. I continued chewing the food, turning my head from one to the other. "What?" I laughed out, covering my mouth. James just shook his head attempting to keep his facial expression neutral aside from a small smile. Chase cocked his head at me ever so slightly, features lighting up.
"Do you like it?" Chase's voice was calm, yet hope seemed to burn in his eyes like fire. I smiled nodding my head.
"Strawberry cheesecake is my favorite," he looked at me, lowering his voice as he spoke in a low tone.
"I know, I made it for you," he smiled, his teeth shining from the lights above, before turning back to his conversation. I'd stopped chewing, looking at him thoughtfully. At least he's trying to be friendly, I thought, before swallowing the sweet food.
A few hours had passed, before my parents and I led our guests out to the front door. Maddox was slightly intoxicated, and the same went for my parents. I stood awkwardly beside Marigold, staring at them all as they chatted. Marigold held her hand to her necklace, looking ever so slightly troubled, yet I didn't have it in me to ask her what was wrong. Eventually, my father opened the door, Marigold turning to face me before they left.
Her face was circular, prominent freckles covered the bridge of her nose onto her cheeks, then down to her shoulders and chest. I stared at them all, so different from my brother's, father's, even my own faint ones. Her green eyes flickered with intensity, before a mask of friendliness covered her features. "It was great to finally meet you personally Makayla, I truly can't wait for us to be friends!"
I nodded my head in response. "I'd wish for nothing else." I said as she looked at me, almost threatening. Then the pair walked out of the door, as I shut and locked it behind them. I had begun to turn toward the stairs as my mother pulled me aside, both of my parents seeming to block me near the door.
"Oh, my sweet girl is almost all grown up," my mother said quietly, twirling a loose strand of my hair, as I looked her up and down. My father stood beside her, being his usual quiet self. I glanced to him as my mother continued. "I just can't wait for you to truly feel the power that courses through your veins. The power you've yet to unlock," I attempted to escape her grasp but found my back to the wall. "My sweet, sweet Makayla will be all grown up, in only a few measly days."
"My birthday isn't until the tenth of July mother," my voice felt like it was struggling to release, for some reason, anxiety rising into the pit of my stomach.
"Of course, I'm aware, it arrives on the fifth day of your mission. It's still only about a week away. On top of that, you may finally Awaken, rather than being a late bloomer." My mother seemed to scowl at that last part. As though she were annoyed that my abilities had yet to come into fruition or rather, perhaps, that I'd forgotten how to use them.
"Enough, Abigail," my father's voice seemed tired, as though he wished not to deal with any problems at this time, I assumed it to be late. My father pressed his pointer finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose. "We should head to bed." He spoke with finality in his voice, my mother backing away from me, annoyed.
"Do sleep well my darling," my mother waved as they brushed past me up to the staircase. "You'll need as much of it as you can get."