Twisted - Esme Devlin Page 0,95
already know she’s right. I didn’t bother with the lukewarm bathtub this morning, and I can feel the remnants of him between my legs. My hair has started to clump together. My fingernails are black with dirt.
“Come with me. Meathead should be gone by now, doing whatever it is the meatheads do.”
I shake my head. Baron would never allow it. The consequences for betraying him like this would never be worth it. “H-He—” My throat is filled with stones, too raspy and dry to get the words out.
Celeste shushes me while she grips the sides of the chair and pulls herself up. “None of that. You need a bath, a real one —or three—and a hot cup of tea. He’ll see, in hindsight, the error of his ways. He always does.”
I look up at her from my spot on the cold, hard floor. The last conversation—proper conversation—I had with Baron has me doubting her words. He seemed to know his own mind well enough.
“I can’t. It’s not worth it.”
Celeste puts her free hand to her mouth. Shakes her head slowly, her thoughts written plainly in her eyes. What has he done to you?
When she drops her hand, she takes a deep breath and asks me, “Do you want to be good, or do you want to be great?”
I let out a laugh and look down at the floor. A trick question if ever I heard one. I’ll never be either. I’m broken. He made sure of it. “Does it matter what I want? There is only what he wants now.”
Celeste snorts. “You’re starting to sound like my daughter.”
I glance back up at her, expecting some semblance of emotion, but all the pity she had when she entered the room is gone now. “Baron told me that story. I’m sorry for what happened to her.”
“But not sorry enough to stop history repeating itself,” she replies.
“Isn’t that the real curse?” I ask her. My fingers trail along the thin layer of dirt that covers the stone floor. “History always repeats itself. I spent every free moment I had up there reading. The Roman Empire is dust, and so is the world you belonged to.”
“No,” she says. “The real curse is that humans aren’t capable of learning from it. He didn’t tell you my story, did he?”
I shake my head.
“Then come with me, have your bath and your tea. I will tell you my story. And if you still want to lie in this hovel, I won’t try to stop you. I told Baron you can’t make a baby while a woman has her blood. He won’t be back this evening.”
I hesitate.
Even if I could know for sure we’d never be caught, it feels like there’s an invisible collar around my neck. I don’t want to leave this little cell. I don’t want to face reality.
Then again, she said I can come back if I want to.
And I can’t remember the last time I had a real bath.
I shift onto my knees and use the chair to pull myself up.
My body feels stiff. I’ve not been moving enough. I know that, but I lost the motivation to move a long time ago.
“There,” she says, holding out her free arm for me to take. “Come.”
We make slow progress through the corridors and up the stairs. The light from the upper levels pricks my eyes, and my irises practically ache from contracting for the first time in weeks.
The whole time Celeste doesn’t say a word, and my stomach rolls with nerves from the thought of being caught. Not only am I out of my cell, but I’m out of my cell with my face uncovered. I have no idea if that would even bother Baron anymore, but old habits die hard, and I feel exposed, as if I’m walking around naked.
We reach a door on the ground floor, which Celeste opens with a key before gesturing me inside.
The first thing I notice is an overpowering smell of roses. I’ve never much liked that smell, but at least it’s better than the smell of musky air and damp stone.
I take a few steps inside. The lighting in here is mostly electrical, soft glass lamps adorning tables of various heights, each of them stacked with more things than I have time to process. Where the rest of the hotel is like walking through a living nightmare, Celeste’s room is like walking into the past. So many electronics—many of which I’ve only ever seen in magazines.
“You’ll find a