There’s a loud bell that chimes, and I watch as Violet’s eyes widen and her back goes rigidly straight. For a moment, I feel an edge of dread, wondering if Hyde has taken back over.
But…Violet grimaces, turns a little pale, and covers her face with both hands, as though she’s deeply ashamed of something.
“What?” Arion demands, sounding worried.
I think he’s confusing her expression for something else.
“That was the oven,” Violet says, her words muffled through her hands.
I open my mouth to ask why in the hell this is important, when…suddenly…breadcrumbs…start appearing before us, leading into Sanctuary.
We all study the random trail, as the scent of something slightly disturbing travels through the air.
Damien, still sitting on the ground, reaches over and warily pokes a breadcrumb. It immediately crashes into a small, powder-like pile of salt.
“This is illusion on a different scale than I use,” he says, fascinated enough to lean over and poke another piece, that also turns into a salt pile.
“For the record, I’m not doing this,” Violet points out, as though it’s important information.
“I am,” Anna gloats, grinning and nodding her head very rapidly.
“She just let me remember where Idun’s head is. This is so fucked up,” Violet carries on, screwing her eyes shut and massaging her temples.
Anna continues smiling.
“This way, please,” come two small, childlike voices that have us all whirling around.
A blonde girl and a blond boy—ghosts.
The boy is clad in overalls, and nothing else. No shirt. No shoes.
His dark grin is mildly alarming.
The girl’s grin is just as dark, as she lifts the hem of her dress ever so slightly and dips to curtsy.
“Just follow the breadcrumbs,” she stage-whispers.
The sound of their laughter is a little sinister and creepy, and it fades with the vision of them. More salt spills to the floor.
“Seriously, what’s with all the creepy kids?” Damien asks in a flat, emotionless tone, staring at the empty doorway and trail of salty breadcrumbs.
“Because I read and loved too many Grimm Brothers stories,” Violet says in a reluctant, confessional tone. “And because Wednesday Adams was my all-time favorite heroine.”
Anna disappears, and I study the line of crumbs. Violet quickly walks by us, cursing to herself, and talking to…no one about how sick and twisted this has gotten.
“My bride isn’t as sweet as I thought,” Arion states, grin still highlighting his fascinated expression. “It’s as though Christmas came early and was actually exciting for the first time since the last time I got to be a lad.”
Emit is the first to follow after her. Damien is right behind him. Arion makes a hop, skip, and twirl before he blurs by, knocking some of the fragile salt-breadcrumbs into dust in his haste.
Tugging at my collar, doing all I can to make sense of the madness, I head inside. Slowly. At this point, I have no idea what we’re going to find or what happens next.
The world now feels like a complete mystery for the first time in centuries, and it’s…unsettling to a man who has spent a long time knowing anything and everything that could happen.
Now I feel like I’m damn near starting all over.
Chapter 50
EMIT
Violet shoots me a worried look, as she hurriedly pulls open the oven door. My eyes widen when I see the head inside.
Idun’s eyes are wide and bloodshot, as they move to find me, silently pleading for help.
Her skin is baked and blackened in some spots, though some are unevenly cooked by comparison.
Running a hand over my beard, I work hard to have no reaction.
Real hard.
Violet grabs a handful of Idun’s hair to lift the head…but the hair breaks off in her hand, and the head drops. There’re a few gross sound effects when it lands and rolls across the floor, stopping at my feet.
Wide eyes stay glued to mine, fear shining for possibly the first time in so many centuries. I forgot Idun could feel fear.
January Violet Carmine really is a confusing paradox, because while I fear her monster, I don’t fear her at all.
While my senses stay confused, I watch with some…bewilderment, as Violet hisses out a sound and hurriedly scoops up Idun’s head.
“Sorry. That might have been overkill, but it’s not like I have much control when Anna is in charge. She didn’t hurt anyone else, right?” Violet asks, looking over at me with the same innocence and compassion as ever before.
Son of a bitch.
I need a drink.
Hell, I need a whole bottle.
Anna is in a baker’s outfit, as dough rolls under her incorporeal touch, and she starts whistling the tune of The Muffin Man.
“I didn’t get to finish making my masterpiece! Can I please borrow the head for a little longer?” the jester girl asks, as she pops in beside Anna.
She drops to her knees, claps her hands together, and starts begging.
“Please! Please! Please! Plea—”
“No!” Violet snaps, glaring over at her. “I told you sundown, and I meant it.”
I…
I…
I…….
Violet quickly fashions a sling, as…I cut my gaze away. I can’t even stand to see the sight of the things that happen next, given the fragile, squishy state of Idun’s head. The sounds are bad enough.
“It’ll grow back. You regenerate too,” Violet is telling her very calmly. “I’d apologize, but I really don’t have a lot of sympathy for you, if I’m honest. You’re unreasonably ruthless, and you don’t seem to have any capacity for compassion. Makes you sort of a sociopath, since even Arion, the soulless vampire, exhibits compassion. No one’s ever been able to remind you what it’s like to be stepped all over.”
“Until now,” Anna sings.
So…is that really what Violet is doing internally? Gloating?
It’s hard to tell, given the uneasy expression and visible tension she’s fighting to hide. I definitely pay more attention to her face than Idun’s. In fact, I make a pointed effort to avoid looking at Idun at all, because…I can’t deal with all this at once.
“You were going to bury them for a thousand years and force them to be with you. I suppose the universe has a sick sense of humor. All that wasted scheming. All that wasted effort. All that wasted time.”
Anna makes a tsking sound, as Violet casually taunts Idun.
Arion adjusts himself in his trousers, clearly more in love with Violet with each passing second. He looks positively star-struck.
Vance swallows thickly, turning his head away, since he was presumably staring too long at Idun’s head.
Damien hops up on the counter, eyes shrewdly assessing Violet.
“You never tried claiming me,” Damien says as though this is the moment for that discussion.
“Bloody hell, he’s already moved on from all this and has found the one stupid insult to his ego to focus on,” Talbot mutters from somewhere in the room. “January Violet Carmine, does this mean I now get to be your beta? I can’t continue being a beta for that selfish man,” says the fool who got drunk, created a monster on a whim, and flip-flops with effortless ease on what’s definitive.