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CHAPTER 22
It was ironic, how quickly the tables had turned.
The last time we'd known each other, Hezekiah intentionally bed me without even "bedding" me at all, successfully using me as a passage to steal what belonged to Mama and the Coterie. I felt like an idiot for letting that happen. My body gave into him so easily, hypnotized by his touch and his mastery of the female body. Goddammit, I was completely submissive to him that night.
But now, the tables have turned. Oh, how they've turned.
Now, my hands were pushed into Hezekiah's firm chest until his back was against the couch completely. I let him know that this time, I was in control. And he was willing to play along only because I had teased him to the point of him needing me
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Mama hadn't said a word after Sajida left. Even when she went into the basement and saw Hezekiah's body asleep in the coffin we put him in, she was speechless. Kizzy and I stood back and just watched her, waiting for what she would do next. My pendant was still in her hand; she hadn't given it back because she did come in contact with me other than the deathly look I got from her when Sajida left. Aza stood beside her, wanting to explain, but waiting to see if Mama was ready to hear it. She just continued to stare at Hezekiah's body like she refused to believe or like she was struggling to understand how this was possible right under her nose. "I was trying to find the right time to tell you," Aza said softly, like trying to calm a lion. "I was going to tell you, A
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** Mama retired to her room after that. She didn't say a word to me. She didn't want to. I could see it in her eyes - she was almost ashamed at what had become of her. Sajida's words were proven true; the spirits came through her in her moment of anger. I stood on the front porch, stunned into silence. Hezekiah was gone by then, taken down into the basement - the "Undercroft" as some House members were calling it. Everyone was on edge, even when the vampire was locked away deep underground. And as they all cowered in fear, they looked at me as if I was the enemy. To them, I was supposed to let Hezekiah's hand burn. I was supposed to stand by and watch, no matter how gruesome. But what they didn't understand was that it wasn't about Hezekiah's hand. It was about Mama - what she w
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I felt like the Coterie's footsteps were chasing after me. One by one, the click of a heel right after the click of my own on the steps, half a second after my own. They were onto me, literally and figuratively. When we reached the bottom of the staircase, we all began walking through the living room, the House members staring on as we marched towards the Undercroft. I felt a chill come through - a draft the closer I got to the door, even in the intense summer. Two male House members stood by either side of the door. They opened it silently, the portal dark on the other side, save for the occasional lantern hanging on the wall's descent to the basement. Aza stepped ahead first, walking down the wooden staircase with a sense of pride and self-worth in her stride. She wouldn't let the Coterie see right through her and deteriorate her sp
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** "What did he say?" That was the first thing the Coterie asked me when I had come back from the undercroft. They all stood in the living room, waiting for me to come through the basement door. And when I did, they bombarded me. However, they saw it on my face - they knew something was wrong. "What happened?" Nene asked me, her voice graver than before. I didn't say anything. I didn't know exactly what to say, really. The words they wanted to hear did not exist; they would never hear them. I sat down on the couch. None of them sat with me, except for Aza, who walked over to the plush seats and sat down right next to me. "Nothing," I finally said. Silence prevailed. The
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** I didn't know where to start. Realistically, how would you even start with a creature like Hezekiah Mercier? He didn't want to answer any of my questions. Our interaction earlier that day was proof enough of that. So frankly, me being down in the undercroft again with my pajamas on and a candle in my hand was almost counterproductive. However, that instance earlier, I was under the supervision of the Coterie; the questions I asked were the questions they wanted to know the answers to. This time, as Hezekiah and I stood across from each other this late and forbidden in the night, I had different questions. The tides had shifted significantly that day, and I could no longer trust anyone in the house. The only person I felt I could trust had run off back into the city, practically exiled by the Coterie she belonged to. She was
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I didn't know Mikael well. I knewofhim - he was the late Tia Valeria's novitiate. One of them. The other had died with everyone else in her House, leaving him as the sole survivor. He was young like the rest of us - an infant in voodooism. He was a lengthy, skinny man; I only ever saw him dressed in white which commonly swallowed him whole. This time, however, he was in pajamas close to the color of his skin - a light brown. Caramel, I suppose. His eyes were tired and heavy but his posture was alert and rigid. His hair, short and curly, was frizzy. His mouth had a natural pout, and his nose was narrow but a bit rounded at the tip. A handsome young man Mikael was, but clearly naive and impressionable - a victim of trauma. I'm surprised he volunteered to come with us, especially since he would be face-to-face with T
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