Blood and Wine - Margot Scott Page 0,12
pull her close.
Realizing that I could in fact hold her if she were dreaming is like stumbling upon water in the desert. Because if I can hold her, and she can touch me, then perhaps she can touch other things that I cannot.
Like keys, and locks, and silver-coated cuffs.
I had resigned myself to the likelihood that I might spend centuries in the cellar at Red Cliff, first as Edward’s captive, then as his children’s inheritance, and so on. Opportunities for escape have been so few and far between that I’ve ceased looking for them.
I couldn’t have anticipated a rare psychic like Mariah would be dropped into my lap.
Her abilities must have been dormant, but one taste of my blood has set off a chain reaction inside her. I haven't felt psychic vibrations like the ones she’s giving off in centuries.
She lifts her head to rub her eyes, her breathing well on its way to normal. Her cheeks are dry. I’m impressed. She’s going to need that resilience if she wants to survive this place.
But first, I have to find out what else she's capable of. If she can interact with physical objects on her own plane while standing in the twilight realm, then she can, in theory, steal Edward’s keys, unlock my cage, and remove my restraints. Once I’m no longer bound, I can slip into the house and feed on the Radcliffs, one by one, to regain my strength.
My gums are already tingling at the thought of sinking my fangs into Edward’s carotid artery.
It has to happen soon, while the boy's blood is still fueling me, and I have enough energy to climb out of the cellar. Wait much longer, and I’ll be too weak to crawl, let alone stand.
Years ago, I tried reaching out to Isabella, in the days before she and her father left the estate. She thought I was some kind of demon. Mariah will likely assume the same, once she sees what I’m capable of. But by then I’ll no longer need her assistance, and she’ll be free to get away.
Once I know for certain that she can retrieve Edward’s keychain, I’ll begin convincing her not to fear the creature in the basement—
“It won’t work,” Katherine says from behind me. “She’s not strong enough to interfere with the physical realm yet. She needs time.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have time to spare,” I say. Katherine must’ve finally seen a vision of the future. How...disappointing. I glance at the girl on the floor. “Very well. If she can't recover the keys while she’s asleep, I'll just have to persuade her to release me while she’s awake.”
“You’ll kill her,” Katherine says.
“Not necessarily.”
She shakes her head. I sigh.
“You’ve seen it happen, then?” I ask.
“I’ve seen you. Hunched over her lifeless form, her throat shredded.” She regards her granddaughter with a look of despair. “She’s just a child, William.”
“You’re all children to me, Katherine.” I head for the door. Katherine follows on silent feet.
I sense the aura of her anguish all around us, and it chafes. She knows as well as I do that this needs to happen. If she could fetch the keys herself, she would have freed me years ago, but they’re too heavy for her to carry all the way down to the cellar, even for a spirit with her skill and focus.
“If you’ve seen it,” I tell her, “then you know there’s no point in trying to stop me.”
She slips in front of me at the head of the stairs. “Hasn’t my family suffered enough?”
I surge forward. Such a move might normally intimidate a person as small in stature as she is, but Katherine knows I cannot harm her. Not physically, anyway.
“I have suffered enough,” I growl.
She meets my gaze with an equally formidable stare of her own. “Are you so determined to become the villain—”
“I am a villain, or have you forgotten?”
“How could I, after seeing what you did to that boy? You nearly ripped him in half in your frenzy to get at his throat.”
“And I’ll just as soon do the same to your granddaughter.”
She finally looks away, and I continue my descent, passing through her on my way to the ground floor.
Katherine and her husband have been kind to me in my captivity. I will mourn the loss of their companionship when the time comes. But if it’s between remaining Edward’s prisoner and breaking the ephemeral hearts of a few ghosts, I’ll shatter those hearts like I long to shatter the cuffs that bind