When Stars Die (The Stars Trilogy) (18 page)

Father seems like he wants to say no, but he has always been a man who could never say no. “You may come in.” He leads Theosodore to our parlor.

I’m certain Theosodore expects me to stay, but I want nothing to do with him and his roaming gaze. “Father, if you don’t mind, I’ll be retreating to the library for some studying. I want to make certain I’ll be prepared for when I start school.”

Father smiles. “She’ll be attending a finishing school at the start of spring. It was her decision. I’m very proud of her.”

A brief glimmer of dissatisfaction appears in Theosodore’s eyes. I hurry off to the library, grabbing my doll along the way, before his look becomes something more.

#

In the library, I sit among a pile of books, my Colette doll sitting in front of me. Our library is small, the size of my room; yet, the shelves are brimming with books coated in a layer of dust.

“Can you believe that man is here, Colette?” I ask the doll.

I try to imagine what Colette would say in response to this question but can come up with nothing. Perhaps she’d give him a cheeky response. Sadly, I know nothing about her. Colette, for me, exists only in a convent, never doing anything that isn’t for Deus in some manner. She will never be a Shadowman in my mind.

I stroke the doll’s straw-textured hair, sadness swelling my heart. I never knew Colette enough. “I’m sorry,” I say to the doll. And that is all I can say.

Talking to an inanimate object is silly, but I feel less silly than if I were speaking to the air. It is comforting to speak to something that looks like Colette. Even though the doll will not answer, I desperately miss saying Colette’s name. She is out there though. Will I ever see her? I’m not certain, and I don’t know if I’d want to.

“It’s unnerving that he’s here. I wonder how many so-called invitations he’s extended. And I wonder if he’s asked to have tea with any of those other families.”

I only know Theosodore as Mother Aurelia’s companion. I’ve heard rumors about his flirting with the sisters of Cathedral Reims though. Beyond that, he is an enigmatic man. I pull the Colette doll to me and start fixing her hair. “He is here for something more, Colette. Maybe he wants to con Father into donating a good fortune to him to fund this burning. Maybe this is why Pope Gilford only wants well-off families because they’re the only ones who could afford to foist off large amounts of money.” I pull the Colette doll away, staring deeply into her glassy blue eyes. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? Maybe I should head down to the parlor to make certain Father won’t fall for anything. He wants to start his own accounting business, and I don’t want him giving away any of his start-up money.”

Tucking the Colette doll against me, I get up to leave, only to be stopped by the presence of Theosodore himself. “I appear to have gotten myself quite lost trying to find the wash closet. Would you like to re-direct me?” His foolish grin overtakes his whiskery face.

He walks calmly toward me. Even though he is calm, my muscles become petrified wood. Something hostile in his stride pushes me back until I’m against the wall paneling, clutching the doll to me like she is my shield. Now hovering over me, he is no longer a man who merely came here to deliver a forced invitation. He is a man who sends poison shooting through me. I shrink against the wall, willing for the wood to give way behind me so I can fall through and get away from him. The thick scent of cigar pushes through my nostrils, making my knees buckle. What does he want with me?

His jagged smile widens. He snakes out a finger and tilts my chin up at him. My throat goes dry, my eyes widen, and my nerves scream to run, though something keeps my body pinned against the wall. “I take it you’re not going to show me to the wash closet, then. That’s all right. I’d much rather be here…with you.”

I push myself off the wall and stare him in the eye. “What on earth do you want with me?” My own brazenness surprises me. This is almost too coincidental for me to remain silent. “Isn’t my father expecting you back shortly? He might go looking for you, and if he sees us like this, there is no telling what he’ll do.”

Theosodore lets out a slight laugh that sends me back against the wall. “Even if he does come, he won’t be able to do anything. I can make certain of that.”

His stare hardens, making me tremble. “Please tell me what you want with me. Please.”

“I didn’t have this planned today, believe me, but seeing you out of that drab dress and clothed the way you are…I can’t help it. But I don’t want to do this, I can promise you that much. I just might as well with someone I find physically appealing, and you are.” He pushes his face close to mine. “Very much.”

I stand up straight and mentally match my height with his. “You mean to hurt me then.”

“Trying to make yourself seem bigger than you feel, aren’t you? That doesn’t work.”

“I’m not afraid.” I’m frightened beyond belief, but if I don’t show him that I’m threatened, then maybe he’ll leave me alone. Those who want to hurt people only want to hurt to see others suffer. “But if you truly don’t want to hurt me, then why are you in here, cornering me like this, flirting with me in such a threatening manner?”

He laughs again. “If I told you, you’d never believe me, and why should you? No one else would. No one believes people like me. People fear others like me.”

“People like you?” Right when I ask the question, I realize what he means. There is only one type of person all people are afraid of, and I’m not even afraid to ask the truth aloud. “You’re a witch, aren’t you?” He never showed any signs of being a witch, but this world is rife with people who fear witches. “But what does that have to do with your intensions of keeping me in here like this?”

Theosodore doesn’t seem fazed by my knowing the truth. He simply looks at me with indifference, like it’s something people would have eventually found out. It’s no surprise, I suppose. Anyone at Cathedral Reims could be a witch now. I think I’ve grown cynical. The Seven Deadly Sins are a plague among humanity. I can safely say I wouldn’t be surprised if Mother Aurelia were one. His indifference makes me suspicious though. How does he know I’m not going to kick him where it hurts, run, and tell the priest of Norbury that he’s a witch? Knowing this makes me stand taller, straighter, and solidifies me to the ground so that if a hurricane swept through Norbury, I’d still be standing in the same place.

I don’t even let him answer my previous question. “I could tell, you know. They’ll burn you, right along with your hypocrisy. You’re a witch going about Warbele telling people they have no choice but to attend a witch burning.”

Without warning, he plants his meaty hands on either side of me, trapping me against him. The space around me tightens, leaving only a few inches between him and I. His cigar scent gags me, and I no longer feel brave. I’m a newborn bird trying to hatch from a steel egg.

“You won’t tell though, and I’ll tell you why. I can manipulate you to believe anything that comes out of my mouth.” He digs his fingers in the wall paneling. “And I can do that, but I won’t. I have to get what I need to continue surviving. You’re partly right about what I am, but that was in another life.”

The last six words he spoke bounce around in my mind. The room seems to shrink in around me, pressing in on my lungs, until the only air I’m breathing is the breath from Theosodore’s lungs, all cigar-laden and filled with cruelty. He is a Shadowman, like Asch, Sash, Gisbelle, all of them. And he must have taken the blood of a human, for he does not bear the black eyes and white skin of one. That means he knows I’m a witch. Will he tell if I don’t give him what he wants? There seems to be that unspoken threat between
us. Even though I can accuse him of being a witch, his accusation would hold far more weight simply because he is in a position of authority within the Professed Order.

I needn’t concentrate on what could be. I need to concentrate on what will be. Whether or not Theosodore chooses to divulge my being a witch doesn’t matter, as I need to escape this present situation before worrying about that.

Swallowing, I speak up. “W-what do you want with me? What do you want to do to me?”

He takes a hand and bunches my dress, slowly lifting it up over my shins, my knees, then my thighs. “I need your purity. Since I have to do this, I promise this will be quick. Or, if you want, I can make this enjoyable for you. This doesn’t have to hurt, Amelia. I don’t have to make this cruel.”

Tears build in my eyes. I know what he wants to do to me. I then blink the tears away. I need to fight and not cry or scream. He wouldn’t kill me, I don’t think he would. If I fight back, the worst he could do is break my bones, but I’ll still have my life, I hope. He may even get what he wants in the end, but at least I can live knowing I tried to fight, that I’m not completely weak and helpless.

I grab his wrist, stopping his progress. I press my nails into his hand and strain my neck to really look up at him. “You will not do this to me. I’ll scream that you’re a witch. Someone will hear. Crying witch will be enough to send someone running to the priest.”

And I know what’s going to happen next before he even does it, but I’m prepared and a little proud of myself for at least being courageous. I let the Colette doll fall softly on a stack of books. Theosodore digs his thick fingers into my waist, pulls me up, and throws me on the ground. I yelp as my elbow hits the floor, pain radiating through my arm that could make the bone shatter if I were any weaker. I try to roll away from him; he throws his weight on me.

I flail beneath him, kicking out my legs, beating my fists on his muscular back. I even bite into his shoulder, drawing a scream from him.

He pulls away, keeping my shoulders pinned to the ground. “I don’t want to have to harm you, Amelia, but I will if you don’t cooperate. I promise I won’t make this painful for you. I will listen to you.”

“Then listen to me when I say I don’t want you to do this to me.”

Something like worry passes through his eyes, but vanishes instantly. “You don’t understand. There is a life after this, a beautiful one, and we all must meet certain demands to find ourselves in that new world.”

I raise my shoulders and scream in his face, “Why do you have to do this to me?”

“I have to. Do you think I wanted to be saddled with this fate? I would have preferred something milder, but such is the way of Deus.”

I want to scream at him to not blame Deus for his own choices, but he slams a knee into my stomach, squeezing every precious bit of air out of me, and lifts up my dress. His fingers claw at my bloomers, fumbling around with them, until he finds the top and drags them down. Air assaults me down there, shivers snaking over my body that have nothing to do with being cold and everything to do with the discomfort of this feeling that should only belong to Oliver.

Theosodore fumbles with his belt, his knee still pressed into me. No matter how much I beat my fists on him, or kick him, or even scream, I cannot push him off me. I can’t weaken those powerful muscles rippling beneath his waistcoat with each tug on his belt he makes. I am causing such a riot that I’m surprised Father has not come. Then again, the library is tucked deep into the recesses of this mansion. Exhaustion weakens my muscles, and all I can do is heavily breathe beneath him, squeeze my eyes shut, and prepare.

Then I think about fire, the fire I need, the fire that could hurt him and allow me to get away. I think Nathaniel has cast fire only once, but that was an accident. I need this to be deliberate.

I don’t know how to do that though!

The clink of metal opens my eyes. Theosodore pulls the belt out of his loops and throws it aside. Then he reaches into his pressed slacks and draws out his erection, and the size brings a primal scream that must have been building somewhere in me.

Adrenaline fills every cavity in my body, and I can’t think of fire anymore. I knee Theosodore in the thigh, pushing his weight forward. His eyes bulge as he falls. I move my head to the left to avoid his. As he struggles to get up, I struggle to get out from beneath him. I manage to pull out everything from underneath, save for my left leg, before Theosodore pulls himself up and lunges at me.

His lunge frees my leg, and adrenaline compels me to my feet. I rush to the door and grab the handle, but I turn too hard, and it breaks. In the process of breaking, the lock must have gotten jammed; I cannot open the door. So I beat against the wood and scream for someone to free me.

Heat flushes through me. Each beat of my fists against the door heightens the temperature, and either I’m getting a fever or more is pumping through me, but I know this is not natural.

Theosodore digs his thick nails into my shoulder and whirls me around. Red veins swell out of the whites of his eyes. “You have left me no choice. I gave you a chance. I gave you a chance!”

He pulls his fist back, and I turn my head away, locking my eyes on a stack of books, ready for the impact, the ensuing blackness. At least I won’t feel what he’s going to do to me. At least I may forget how I even ended up here. I squeeze my eyes shut.

The heat increases and shoots down to my fingers. A searing pain explodes through the pads of my fingertips, and I scream as the heat ebbs from me. Theosodore screams as well.

My eyes fly open, and the stack of books is on fire. He looks at me with wide eyes and backs away, falling on the floor. His shock gives me enough time to turn around, fumble with the door jamb, and free myself.