He must have paused, because the air around me remained warm. I took a deep breath. ‘Stay away. Stay away from me.’
‘What?
‘Just do it.’
I buried my head in my arms, refusing to look. There was swift movement, and silence. I cautiously raised my head a little, peering through the curtain of hair. Lyla stood with a comforting arm on Fabian’s shoulder murmuring something into his ear. Her face was masterfully plastered with fake concern, shaking her head disapprovingly in my direction as she steered him from the room. Yet as she passed my bed she glanced back, the tiniest hint of a smug, satisfied smile on her lips. I quickly lowered my head, not wanting her to see me looking. The door slammed shut and the forced indifference I had maintained since I had woken from unconsciousness not an hour ago loosened. I fell onto my knees, curling up on the cold sill.
‘Why?’ I whispered into the silence.
‘Why? You tell me.’
I jumped, surprised. With his upper arm casually pressed to the wall stood Kaspar, his forearms folded across his chest, covering the unbuttoned part of his shirt. Anger that didn’t reach his eyes was set upon his face.
‘You weren’t even in the slightest bit scared by what we did to Ilta, were you?’
I pulled my face into a grimace and shook my head. ‘Just disgusted.’ I nodded. ‘Your disgust is only partly why you won’t let Fabian near, isn’t it?’
I froze, sensing dangerous territory. ‘No.’
He sighed. ‘Why do you delight in lying to me, Violet?’ His arms remained folded and he jerked his head to the side, flicking his hair from his eyes.
It took a minute for me to grasp that I should reply and, not as defiantly as I would have liked, I retorted, ‘I’m not lying.’
I blinked and he was stood in front of me, yanking my hair until my left cheek was exposed to his eyes. I tried to turn back, but he placed one hand behind my head. Slowly, he traced the scratch on my cheek, already weaving itself together.
‘Then how do you explain that?’
‘It’s just a scratch. No big deal.’
His eyebrows lowered and wrinkles appeared along his brow, as he turned his head away slightly. He yanked my own head further over and I felt my neck strain until there was a click. ‘Now are you going to tell me how you got that, or do I have to use other means to gain the information I want?’
I pursed my lips tightly and looked down at the floor, saying nothing. I didn’t like the sound of ‘other means’, but neither was I going to tell him about Fabian’s kiss or Lyla’s threat.
He touched my lips gently with a single finger. I instantly recoiled from his cold and unusually soft touch.
‘So it will be by other means then?’
‘Why is it so important to you anyway?’ I snapped, pressing myself against the damp window, away from him.
He raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Let’s see. Perhaps I was just wondering why my sister, my best friend since birth and my hostage are all acting extremely weird.’
He took a step closer and pressed two fingers to my temple, tenderly at first and then more firmly. He closed his eyes. Mine widened, as I realized what he intended to do.
I hastily threw up mammoth barriers around my mind, hiding as much as I could from view, focusing on the coolness of the window and the condensation and the sound of the wind buffeting against the panes of glass; on his steady breathing, as he fought against my defences and his pained expression, his forehead wrinkling from concentration; his dark button-up shirt, only partly fastened, revealing smooth chest underneath.
Rattle, rattle.
My thoughts were interrupted as a sharp stabbing pain pulsated in my head, a thousand times worse than even the most painful migraine. My legs weakened and I clutched at my head desperately as it faded into nothing. Kaspar’s fingers left my temples and he looked down at me with contempt.
‘Privacy is a privilege I allow you, Girly, not something you maintain on your own. And I know I’m hot – you don’t need to stare.’
I scowled up at him. ‘But you can’t get into my mind, can you?’
He stooped down to my level. ‘Oh, I can.’ This time he didn’t bother to make any contact or even close his eyes. Pain shot through my head again, quickly subsiding, and I froze, unable to move as I concentrated on keeping what I knew my father had done and the fact I had dreams buried in their boxes.
The rest I sacrificed as images began to start flashing before my eyes, mainly of the past few weeks: learning to dance, the ball, Ilta, Kaspar taking my blood, Fabian …
‘You kissed.’
I stared at the rug on the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. A hand was placed under my chin and he tilted my head upwards until I could do nothing but meet his gaze.
‘You kissed,’ he repeated. Something about my expression must have been guilty, because he let go, his lips parting in disgust. ‘You stupid girl.’
At that point I did not even have the dignity to try to defend myself, so I just sat there, unseeing.
‘And Lyla is jealous and threatening to expose me?’
I tugged my lips into a grimace in reply. ‘If Father were to know,’ he muttered to himself, beginning to pace the room until he turned towards the door.
‘Where are you going?’
He stopped and wheeled around, eyes wide and accusing. ‘To sort this out! I’ll talk to Lyla, but Fabian is down to you.’ With that he left the room, leaving me sitting on the windowsill, unsure of what had just happened.
THIRTY-FIVE
Kaspar
The door slammed with a defiant boom behind me, separating me from the idiotic child sat on the windowsill. I leaned against the wall, taking several deep breaths.
She kissed Fabian.
I felt my eyes burn black and silently wondered why. Other than making things more complicated, what was so bad about it? Why am I angry?
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts to the back of my head. There were more important matters to deal with. Walking down the hallway, I could hear muffled voices coming from Lyla’s bedroom and recognized the voice of one of my sister’s friends. I was about to knock, when Lyla spoke. I paused, hand midair, intrigued.
‘I just want to know what she has that I don’t!’ Lyla’s raised voice drifted through the door, anger and frustration evident. ‘I mean, I have the looks, the money and the status! And how can someone change their mind like that? He was all over me for what, twenty years? And then suddenly little Miss Living comes along, with her beating heart and seriously breakable everything, and suddenly it’s all, “Oh, Violet, can I sleep with you? Let me shag you, kiss you, take you to the ball!”’ she mocked, her voice peaking with resentment.