Page 21 of The Shadow Bride (The Scarlet Veil #2)
Chapter Twenty-One
Farewell
Color rises high on my mother’s prominent cheeks as she glares between us, her lips pursing in a severe line. “Absolutely not,” she snaps. “I will not leave without her.”
Michal, Pasha, Ivan, Lou, and I all gaze helplessly back at her. Or rather, Lou and I do. Michal stands behind us with a mask of calm, while Pasha and Ivan have adopted slightly more menacing expressions—not that my mother cares. She refuses to acknowledge either of them, instead standing tall and proud and furious at the foot of the grand staircase in my room. They hover behind her like two enormous shadows.
As it turns out, Odessa bade them to remain with my mother through the festivities tonight, and she was none too pleased when they rushed to her aid instead. They returned—tails between their legs—shortly before Lou came to find us. She recounted the whole story as we trekked through tunnels to the east wing. “I think they’re half in love with Odessa—a fact your mother hasn’t missed,” she added with a sly grin. “You should’ve heard her before I coaxed her into the sleeping draught.” She imitated Satine Tremblay’s sharp, no-nonsense voice then: “Monsieur Sokolov, you understand she will never regard you as a suitable match with hair longer than hers? And stop scowling at me, Monsieur Volkov, or I shall be forced to reveal your unseemly temperament to the young lady—”
My mother is the one with the unseemly temperament now, however. She refused to allow Michal, Lou, and me to even clear the stairs before charging toward us, hell-bent on making her opinion known. “I will not stand for it,” she says again. “Requiem is no place for anyone of gentle repute, and—though I can only command my daughter—I highly encourage all of you to join us on that ship and leave this wretched isle.”
I resist the urge to groan. “I told you, Maman. I cannot leave until we’ve dealt with the revenants.” And the veil , I add silently. And Filippa . And potentially Death himself.
She thrusts her hands upon her hips, somehow managing to look down her nose at me while standing three steps below. “Then neither can I.”
“But it isn’t safe for you here—”
“I fail to see how you are any safer. You are my daughter, and I will not abandon you to this place.”
Cursing inwardly at her newfound maternal instinct, I descend another step and nearly trip on Toulouse, who has managed to climb the steps at last. I bend to snatch up the tabby kitten, petting his head furiously for something to do with my hands. Under different circumstances, I might’ve been, well, touched by my mother’s reluctance to leave. Perhaps I still am, just a little. “Clearly, you don’t understand what happened here tonight—”
“Oh, I understand perfectly. This one”—she points an accusing finger at Michal—“feigned his death to cede all responsibility to his cousin, leaving the two of you free to frolic across the island and do God knows what while the rest of us pretend you’re being held under lock and key. I will admit,” she says loudly when I open my mouth to argue, “I do not understand the purpose of the latter. As I highly doubt you are going to reveal said purpose, I must assume the vampires still require you for some reason, but I must emphasize—most emphatically—this is not a reason to stay. You owe these foul creatures nothing, Célie.”
These foul creatures. My chest tightens at that. She still speaks like I am not one of them, but what does she expect if I come back to Cesarine? That I’ll simply return to the nursery until a nice young man—rich and titled, of course—takes pity on me? That we’ll court for a month or two before he proposes, that we’ll marry in the spring, that we’ll raise our lovely, dark-haired babies right down the street from the town house? The idea is absurd, laughable, and if my incident with Jean Luc is any indication, I’ll end up eating all of them—my faceless husband, my children, and my parents.
So I draw myself up to my full height, just like she taught me, and I tell the truth. “I have no reason to go back.”
Her eyes narrow.
“Then allow me to repeat myself—neither do I.” Voice crisp, she emphasizes each word before turning her resolute gaze to Lou. “If you wish for me to return to Cesarine without my daughter, I hope you brought an entire stock of that ghastly sleeping draught. Even with it, you shall need to knock me unconscious and pour it down my throat to keep my person upon that ship. I shall simply leap into the sea and swim back to this hateful rock if you do not—”
“There are always ropes,” Pasha suggests with relish.
My mother twists around to look at him, grimacing at the sight of his rather gloriously windswept hair. His lip curls back at her because he knows. “Young man, it took weeks of investigation for me to find my daughter—and before that, weeks more to hear even a word of her whereabouts. It shall take a very strong rope to keep me from finding her again.” She glares between Toulouse and me as if we’ve also offended her somehow, bringing a hand to her mouth to muffle a cough instead of a sneeze. “And if magic has indeed broken, I assume the protective enchantments around the isle aren’t quite up to scratch either. It shouldn’t take long for me to return. The harbormaster owes me a favor—I made quite a smart match for his son last season, and the newlyweds are expecting their firstborn any day now. Louis cannot wait to become a grandfather.”
I stiffen inexplicably at that. I remember Louis’s son, of course, but now he is married. Now he is expecting a baby. Instead of examining my reaction, however, I press a kiss to Toulouse’s tiny nose.
“Please extend our felicitations,” Michal says smoothly into the nasty silence that follows, but before my mother can respond—or rather, snarl at him—Dimitri strides through the door with a beleaguered expression.
“What’s this I hear about you leaving?” Marching straight past Michal, he pulls me into a fierce embrace, careful not to squash Toulouse. Michal sighs heavily. “I told Odessa we should’ve included you in our little farce, but really, Célie, we have the whole thing worked out. You needn’t leave unless you absolutely—”
I push him away, still a little miffed at being excluded. “I’m not going anywhere, Dimitri. Lou and my mother are the ones leaving.”
My mother swells indignantly while Lou cringes at the oncoming explosion. “I most certainly am not —”
“Well, of course she isn’t.” Dimitri frowns as if I’ve suggested something preposterous, sweeping down the last of the stairs and seizing my mother’s hands. Sweeping his lips across her knuckles. Her eyes bulge in shock, and she hastily draws away, her cheeks flushing at the impropriety, before coughing again. Her throat must tickle. “I told you, Odessa has it all arranged. She regrets not being here to explain in person, but she thought it best to get started on our little revenant problem instead—she and a council of witches are discussing solutions as we speak.” He claps his hands. “Anyway, a sentry is waiting to escort Lou to the harbor, and Pasha and Ivan will remain here to guard this room—with you in it, of course,” he says to me, winking. Then he turns back to my mother. “If you’d like to stay, Madame Tremblay, your presence will only lend credence to the ruse. We are supposed to be imprisoning your daughter, and our courtiers might grow suspicious if this room falls too still.” Arching a brow at Lou, he adds, “I assume the shield you cast upon it will cease with your departure?”
Lou nods wearily, bending to scratch the head of another kitten. “I can barely maintain it now. At least my nose isn’t bleeding any longer.” Our eyes meet, and fear shines bright and clear in hers for the first time since the séance.
She doesn’t know what will happen if the veil remains open. To her. To the other witches.
“A dangerous habit, that,” Dimitri says sagely, “and especially on an island of vampires, but what do you think, Célie? Shall your mother stay with us a little while longer?”
Unbidden, I glance around to Michal, who gives no indication one way or another of his opinion. Indeed, he keeps his black eyes carefully neutral as if determined not to make the decision for me. I scowl at him. Right. Turning back around, I speak through my teeth. “I suppose it’ll be fine if Pasha and Ivan guard the door— really guard the door this time,” I add with narrowed looks in their direction—“and you remain inside the room, Maman.”
“I am not remaining inside this room.”
Exasperated, I nearly fling my hands in the air. “Fine, then! Can someone please fetch some rope?”
My mother scoffs and looks away, crossing her arms tightly against her chest. “So crass you are now, daughter. I cannot fault you, I suppose, with the dreadful company you keep—”
“Have we finished?” Voice quiet, Michal addresses the room with thinly veiled impatience. “If so, Célie and I must go. The sun will be rising soon, and we have business across the isle.”
“I shall fetch my coat,” my mother says stiffly.
“Maman!” Preparing to wring her obstinate neck, I return Toulouse to the floor with his siblings, where they scamper over Ivan’s boots and ignore his ferocious scowl. “How many times must I say it? You are not coming —”
“Madame,” Dimitri interrupts, clasping her hands once more and bowing low, “I completely understand your reticence to part with your daughter. You are her mother, after all, and a beacon of virtue at that. Of course you wish to remain with her, to protect her where my cousin has failed.” A warning rumbles from Michal’s chest, indiscernible to the humans in the room. Dimitri’s lips twitch. “Allow me to assure you, however, that she will be in no real danger. The witch they seek is a friend of our family, and moreover, she might possess the knowledge we require to debilitate the revenants. She will not harm Célie, and if she tries”—he straightens with that devilish gleam in his gaze, struggling to maintain a straight face—“I swear both the witch and my cousin will deal with me. I shall protect your daughter, madame. Have no fear.”
Frowning, my mother studies Dimitri closely for several seconds before sniffing in approval. “That is because you are a gentleman.” Her lips purse as she turns to me. “You will report to this young man the instant you return. Do you understand? If anything or anyone runs afoul”—here she skewers Michal with a pointed look—“he must know.”
“Yes.” Dimitri nods gravely. “You must both report to me.”
Chortling despite herself, Lou glances back at Michal, and I follow her gaze, keenly aware of his presence on the step above mine. My hair brushes his chest when I turn, and gooseflesh erupts down my back as he lifts a hand—hidden to my mother—and winds a lock around his fingers. He gives a gentle tug, and I respond instantly, instinctively, shifting backward until I press flush against him. Heat suffuses my belly at the contact.
Have you ever considered that I might not want to ravish you tomorrow?
I am such a liar.
“Of course we will,” Michal says smoothly.
Though his black eyes glitter with the promise of retribution, he smirks back at Dimitri, who looks enormously satisfied for some reason. My gaze narrows on him.
A knock sounds on the door in the next second, however—extinguishing the heat in my belly—and after another quick tug of my hair, Michal vanishes down the stairs in a whisper of movement. I just catch his heel behind the silk dressing screen as the door swings open to reveal another sentry—this one hard-faced and unfamiliar, cloaked in the same dark attire as Pasha and Ivan with gold foxes on the chest. “I am here to escort the witch,” he growls.
Staring up at him in distaste, Lou sighs. “That’s my cue.”
Then she pulls me into a fierce hug—as fierce as she is able—and my arms wrap around her in a state of mild disbelief. Because I don’t know when I’ll see her again. Because I don’t want her to leave. Because all of this is happening too fast, and—and because I don’t think I can do any of it without her. Unable to find my voice, however, I can only nod helplessly as she says, “I’ll send Talon with any news, but in the meantime, do try to be careful, won’t you?” She pulls back to search my face. “And remember what I said about the veil,” she adds in a rush. “You can fix it. I know you can, but if you need help just—just send word. One or all of us can be here in a matter of hours.” I will never ask them to come back, however. I will never ask them to harm themselves for my sake, and perhaps she knows it. Perhaps I imagine her eyes flicking toward the silk screen instead. “You aren’t alone here, Célie. You’ll never be alone.”
I swallow hard.
Forcing myself to release her, I speak emphatically enough for her to hear me when I say, “And the same to you. No, I’m serious, Lou. If the revenants grow to be too much—”
But she shakes her head with a playful scoff, already turning away. “Nonsense. I am still La Dame des Sorcières. It’ll be a cold day in hell when my dear dead mother gets the better of me.” And—before either of us can succumb to tears—she winks over her shoulder and climbs up the stairs, preceding the guard into the corridor and out of sight.