Page 15 of Contract Marked (Interdimensional Beings #1)
Chapter Fifteen
Erin
T he following morning, my head was screaming at me, and the faintest slivers of light that slipped in through the curtains made me wince in pain. I laid in bed in a pain-filled stupor, a slideshow of last night playing on repeat in my head. Embarrassment crawled up my throat and I threw an arm over my face as if that would erase my actions.
I can’t believe I let Dez touch me like that. Talk to me like that. Hell, I can’t believe I entered his room in the first place. What was I thinking?
I hadn’t been, that was the problem.
Dez’s bedroom door disappeared from the wall, and I don’t know how I felt about that. Another glass of water appeared at my bedside, and I chugged it, scowling at the empty wall. Dez would surely have questions for me, questions I wouldn’t know how to answer. Or worse, he’d humiliate me again. My own treacherous body betrayed me in the worst way because I couldn’t deny it: I found Dez attractive. Insanely so. But that didn’t mean I wanted to jump into bed with the enemy, let alone one who would kill me if he found out the truth about my plans. I don’t know what he would have done if he had found proof of Cal’s contract.
Time passed. I wasn’t sure how much, but Dez didn’t appear on the edge of my bed like he had every morning the past week. A part of me was grateful; I didn’t know how to react to him after last night, but another part had an urge to apologize. Most likely that was just the people pleaser in me that hated to leave things on a bad note. Really, I had nothing to apologize for, except maybe barging into his room uninvited, but then he had slammed the door on me when I first tried to leave. This was still all his fault. He was the one who got me into this mess, who promised me a trial in front of the Council that I’d only end up losing because of him.
Just the thought had me lunging out of bed in frustration, tossing on a pair of jeans and my black turtleneck. Regardless of why Dez hadn’t shown up this morning, I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity to explore. I knew he was hiding something behind that red door, and I planned to find out what.
The mansion seemed relatively empty, and I wondered if the others were taking it easy after last night. I certainly wanted to, but I didn’t know when I’d get another chance to be free of Dez like this. My bare feet slid across the marble and tiled floors, passing familiar and unfamiliar rooms. I thought better of trying my hand at the library again to see if I could use anything against Dez. He wouldn’t hide important information in a place so public that never changed locations.
Without my morning cup of coffee and a full night’s sleep, the headache from this morning grew tenfold as I wandered around in circles with no sight of a red door or anything worth noting. I decided to call it quits in a random sitting room, falling into an oversized armchair, my back resting on the fuzzy throw blanket laid across the neck of it.
Voices echoed down the hall, and I perked up when I saw Rowan. I was about to call out when Saya followed behind him with red eyes. Not wanting to intrude on the moment, I kept quiet and shut my eyes just enough to observe the two of them beneath lowered lashes.
“I’ll find a way to come back for you,” Rowan said, his hand clasping hers. “I swear it.”
Saya shook her head. “I don’t want you to promise that, Rowan. I don’t want you ever coming back here or taking another contract again. I want you to be happy. Enjoy the time you have with your sisters, being human.”
I couldn’t make out Rowan’s expression as his back had turned to me; rays from a nearby window highlighted the tears streaming down Saya’s face in earnest now. He pulled her into a tight embrace, whispering something into her ear I couldn’t hear.
Dez appeared with Lucille in tow a few paces away from the couple and inches from where I was pretending to rest in the armchair. I jumped, ruining the facade.
Saya quickly rubbed her face, and Rowan turned to us.
“It’s time. Are you ready?” Dez asked, his gaze focused only on Rowan.
Rowan nodded, shooting us all a sad smile. “I’ll miss you all and sincerely wish you all the best.”
Lucille sniffed and was the first to move, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Don’t forget about us! If … If we had met in my time, I would’ve thrown the grandest of parties for you and your sisters. The whole town would’ve been gossiping about it for months to come.”
Rowan returned her hug. “I appreciate that, Lucy.”
I wasn’t much of a hugger. Friendly affection and physical contact were something I had trouble navigating for most of my life. Rowan didn’t hesitate, though, in pulling me into a bear hug. “Protect Saya for me. Please,” he whispered into my ear before withdrawing. I nodded, unable to say anything unless I started to tear up like Lucille.
Saya was last, and Rowan gave her a stern stare as if telling her something we couldn’t hear. When they embraced again, it was longer and far more intimate than mine or Lucille’s.
Eventually, they separated, and Rowan grabbed Dez’s outstretched hand. Dez remained expressionless the whole time as if the entire scene unfazed him, but he wasn’t that heartless, was he?
“Goodbye,” Rowan said for the last time. Then he and Dez were gone.
Lucille and I stayed with Saya in her room as she sobbed on and off for the remainder of the night. Lucille knew exactly what to do by rubbing her back and whispering comforting words while I used Saya’s silver slate by her door to manifest the greasiest takeout food I could think of.
Megan never cried over any of her breakups, no matter how awful, but cried for days when her golden lab, Sandy, had passed. We had mostly stayed inside watching movies featuring golden labradors and eating Mexican takeout—Megan’s preferred band-aid for the pain. Megan said she admired me for how strong I was since she had never seen me fall apart, even when faced with life’s shittier moments, but that wasn’t entirely true.
When you have no one to turn to growing up, you learn pretty early on how to cope with your sadness alone. I am actively working in therapy—or was—on how to open up to others, but it was a long process.
Saya’s room was different from what I expected. Unlike the black and white theme in mine, her bedroom featured the prettiest blues, as if the walls and ceilings were painted to match the ocean at its clearest. Her bed was a four-post canopy with a turquoise and white frilled bed set, the headboard blocked by a sea of pillows. A white vanity sat in the corner of the room next to the large window facing the lake, and on the other side was an easel with covered canvases littering the floor beside it.
Unlike the rest of the estate, her room felt alive. Lived in. Then again, she didn’t have a home to return to anymore. This was her home now.
“What in God’s graces is this?” Lucille picked up the plastic container of guacamole, staring at it like it was going to sprout legs.
I laughed and opened the bag of chips beside it, dipping one in and humming in satisfaction. “Try it.”
Both of them tentatively took a bite. Based on Lucille’s face, she wasn’t a fan, but Saya’s lit up, and that was all that mattered right now.
We ate greasy tacos, guacamole, and chips, Lucille filling up most of the chatter between us. Saya’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, but I didn’t expect one friendly girls’ night to magically fill the void Rowan left.
Lucille and Saya fell asleep together in her bed, the white drapes across the canopy sweeping down like a transparent net with two butterflies caught inside. I quietly organized the empty containers in a neat corner, assuming they’d be magically swept away in the morning or whenever Saya touched the slate once more and tip-toed out of the room.
The estate was silent. It usually was, but it felt heavier tonight, with the absence of Rowan fresh. Dez also hadn’t returned, or at least I hadn’t seen him since he disappeared with Rowan. Not that I wanted to see him. The last thing I needed was to get involved with a strange, otherworldly being whose morals I still couldn’t quite figure out. Who still hasn’t told me his contract price.
No red doors came into my line of view, not that I was surprised, but it would’ve been nice to have explored it the easy way. I went back to my room and locked myself in. With my purse strapped to my side, I faced my bathroom mirror again, but this time, instead of envisioning Megan, I visualized a red-painted door.
With the coin in hand, the mirror moved like silver liquid, and I braced myself as I crawled through the portal.
The familiar sticky feeling lingered as I stepped out of the mirror into a room I hadn’t been in before, grateful the portal had worked this time. I immediately knew this was the room, even if the fire hydrant red door hadn’t given it away. It was the only room besides Saya’s that looked like it had personality.
Unlike the rest of the estate, the room had yellow and pink flowered wallpaper with shiny cherry wood floors as if just waxed. It seemed at odds with the dust cluttering on top of boxes and books piled on an abandoned dresser shoved beneath a window that could’ve belonged inside a Victorian home. I expected to see the lake or the estate entrance, but instead, I saw a city illuminated by street lamps, rain pelting down on the cobblestone, making it slick. Nobody walked by as if everyone was inside, choosing their cozy fireplaces over the freezing rain.
I blinked, taken aback by the change in scenery. If I opened the window, would I feel the rain on my cheek, or was it an illusion? I shook my head and focused on the dusty pile of books and boxes. Time was of the essence; who knew if or when Dez would find out I was here?
My eyes widened when I opened the flap of a green velvet photo book. The pictures moved. At first, they were of a woman with long chestnut hair, a heart-shaped face, and soft honey eyes. Given our similarities, I’d argue she could’ve been my sister or close relative, except my eyes were dark brown, and my chin was more rounded.
She wore a sundress and a frilly umbrella, twirling in a field of flowers, her smile as bright as the sun. In another, she wore an emerald satin gown that hugged her curves and brought out her scarlet-painted lips. She was giving the photographer a sultry look before tipping her head back in a laugh. I also wasn’t amiss about the photos of her posing in a pair of silk pajamas eerily similar to the ones I wore.
The next page showed Dez with a smile I had never seen on him before. He wore suspenders with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, wrapped around the shoulders of the woman. In the next frame, he glanced down at her as if taking her in before stealing her lips in a kiss.
Another page and my heart stuttered. It was Cal. Unlike the casual wear I usually saw him in, he wore a pantsuit and a top hat, a soft smile, and a mischievous twinkle shone in his eyes as he shot an inappropriate gesture at the photographer. The next photo was of Dez and Cal with their arms slung around one another like close brothers wearing only slacks, their hair dripping wet as if they’d gone for a swim. Beside it was a picture of the woman with her hands in both Cal and Dez’s in front of a cityscape much like the one outside the window here.
I flipped through several more pages, all the photos featuring either Cal, Dez or the woman at different periods of time. All happy. It wasn’t until I landed toward the back of the album that I covered my mouth.
It was pictures upon pictures of all of them engaged in various sexual positions. One, in particular, had a very naked Cal tracing the curve of the woman’s back with his tongue as her mouth bobbed against Dez’s cock, his head tilted back in pleasure.
I slammed the photo album shut, my face on fire. Well, it certainly seems like Cal and Dez hadn’t always hated each other, but who was the woman? Was she the reason they now despised each other? Dez’s ‘friends’ in the shopping district had mentioned an incident, and I would bet money this woman was somehow tied to that.
The box next to the photo album held a stack of papers. On closer inspection, I realized they were letters. I knew I was crossing a boundary when I opened and read the first one, but if I was to uphold my end of Cal’s contract, I needed to find out what made Dez vulnerable—even if I felt awful doing it.
My dearest Angelica,
Well, we have a name for the mystery woman; I’m assuming that Dez is calling her my dearest.
Watching your face light up tonight, your hands pulling me closer to you as we made love underneath the stars, will be a memory I’ll forever cherish. My name on your lips was music to my ears as you shook from the force of your climax like the waves crashing against the boat. Every time I step foot on this dock, I’ll always remember how you tasted, how the setting sun brought out the mesmerizing gold in your eyes, and how your smile was more beautiful than all the stars that shined above us. I love you, Angelica. I want to be with you forever. My blood and my heart belong to you. Forever yours,
Dezmandaro
P.S. I have a surprise waiting for you when you wake.
My eyes skimmed the following pages, more and more graphic with every word. I felt the heat in my cheeks as if they were their own individual furnaces. I picked up the next letter.
My dearest Angelica,
I will never love another in my life as much as I love and adore you. Your curiosity and hunger for life have stirred my passion, which I thought had died long ago. I’d been dreaming before I met you, but now I’m awake, and you have my full and utter attention.
I want all of you, Angelica—your body, heart, and soul. I’ll never let you go.
Forever yours,
Dezmandaro
P.S. I knew you’d love the changing leaves and vibrant colors of autumn. I remember when you told me it was your favorite season. The joy on your face was the greatest gift you could have given me.
“My blood and my heart …” I murmured to myself. It seemed Dez had been planning on giving Angelica his blood so she would be immortal with him. It would also mean she was a human. But according to Saya, that wasn’t illegal, and beyond feeling like a creep for reading through someone’s intimate letters, I don’t think there was anything else here I could use against Dez.
I didn’t doubt that Angelica was a sore spot for him, but would talking about her be enough to cause him to lose control? Rowan said Dez had lost it over a simple question, so maybe that wouldn’t be too off the mark. Not to mention, Dez’s dimension still depicted autumn for a woman who no longer lived here. If it had been a fling or something he’d already healed from, I wouldn’t be watching the same falling leaves as Angelica had.
It was hard to tell how long it’d been since she was here. These letters didn’t have a date, and the pages looked fairly recent, but I couldn’t use the same logic as I would on Earth. It was safe to assume, however, that it had been some time if Rowan had never met this woman, mentioning it had only been him when he first arrived, and he’d been here for several years at least.
I hated not knowing the specifics of this. How much would it take for Dez’s protective barrier to break? A small afternoon spat about an old love? Or something worse?
Footsteps stirred outside the door, and I froze. They were heavy and belonged to someone with longer strides. It had to be Dez. Closer and closer, they echoed, my heart pounding in my throat. I gripped the coin in my purse, thinking, praying for the portal to open back to my bedroom as I lunged for the dusty floor-length mirror in the corner of the room.
My feet were the last to enter the portal as a door squeaked open behind me right before I tumbled out of my bathroom mirror, my heart still in my throat.