56

T he kitchen was flooded with the smells of a roast. It had become an odd source of comfort, cooking with them, sitting with them at the table. Sometimes even eating small bits of the meal myself. It usually helped me feel normal, feel human.

It did not seem to be having the same effect today.

I cut into the carrots at the counter with a sharp knife as I stared out over the side of the property. The dark, dancing flower beds were a welcome distraction from the last two days of wrongdoings.

Snap.

Carrots? Carrots. My mind produced gruesome images and sickening echoes of the sound of the monster’s breaking bones.

Bones …

I looked down at my hands, no longer covered in blood but the longer I stared at them, the more unsure I became, each long blink playing ruthless tricks on my mind. Blood caked my skin and soaked my nail beds. I ran the water hot and let it bite my skin as I furiously scrubbed the flesh of my palm.

Breathe.

It was gone. There was no more blood—just a sore set of hands and a racing heart.

The false constable, the ghoul , as Wesley had called it, was spread around the back half of the property in pieces that had taken me two days of puking and cursing to cut up and disperse. I hadn’t spoken to Wesley since. Something unknown had shifted between us and I couldn’t stand the fever I felt under his speculating stare. Waiting until he slept, I left food and kept my distance.

The Manor seemed at peace without Clay and Koen around. It drank in the violence that happened happily, the stained floorboards pristine again as it licked up every last drop of blood that had been spilled.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that settled against my bones. I had never taken a life. I had been witness to death, watching lives come to a natural end, and had attempted to take my own multiple times. But I had never wielded the blade that ended it. It haunted me.

I felt disconnected. I felt like a monster .

Moving back to the carrots I continued to remind myself that they were vegetables and not human remains but my mind continued to flicker between the two, unable to decipher the difference. I was losing it.

“Florence?” Clay’s voice rounded the corner, and my heart leaped. His handsome face followed quickly behind. His cheeky grin spread wide and those slate eyes searched for me as he carried two large paper bags. “There you are.” He slid the bags across the island and wrapped an arm around me. I could tell from the way his gaze moved around the kitchen that his surroundings had started to change. That the Manor was showing its beauty in small pieces. No longer so run down to their eyes, but restoring inch by inch before them. Clay’s brow furrowed the way it always did when he was lost in thought but he shook free as I squeezed his side and brought him back to reality.

“There’s a police car out front. What the hell is that about?”

The one problem I couldn’t solve before they returned. I didn’t know how to start or drive the vehicle, but it needed to be disposed of before someone came looking for it.

I swallowed the tears that stung the corners of my eyes and reached out to him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, the eyes searching mine filled with worry. I shook my head. “You should speak to Wesley.”

He looked down at me, slightly releasing his grip around my waist to make better eye contact. “Florence?” He stared at me momentarily, a thousand questions flickering over his hardened expression.

“Speak to him, he’ll explain.” I took his hand and kissed the palm, needing the tender moment of connection. His head pulled to the side, unsure of my mood, but his hand brushed my cheek softly and his lips gently met the corner of my downturned mouth in a kiss.

“Rude,” Koen huffed, balancing more bags in his arms as he stumbled into the kitchen. “Now I see why you only took two.” He rolled his eyes and dropped the bags.

“You say that like it’s my fault. You’re the one who bought so much shite,” Clay said, righting his mood. His hands left my face as he turned around to face Koen.

“We brought presents.”

His bright green eyes were enough to pause the consistent storm of every horrible moment that happened during their absence. He smiled at me, dimple deep as he flashed those white teeth and warmed the cold fear that gripped me tightly into nothing but simple worry.

“For me?” I forced a smile to my face for him and pushed onto my toes to see the inside of the bags.

“It’s a secret.” Koen shooed me away with a soft pat on my rump. “For after dinner.”

“You two are trouble.” I looked between them, Clay in his white dress shirt, the fabric so fine I could trace the tattoos on his biceps with my eyes. Koen was in a hole-infested, what had he called it? A band t-shirt, and his blond, sun-kissed hair was messy beneath his backward hat.

Dangerous .

I sighed, feeling the Manors' presence. Its short-lived silence ended with the return of Clay and Koen.

Clay smirked, leaning against the cupboard and tucking his hands into his pockets as he stared at me. “You have no idea,” he purred.

Koen’s head cocked to the side and his eyebrows raised. “I’ll go check on Grumpy,” he shrugged and returned to acting a little weird. The relationship was still tense between them. Leaving for days and not talking wasn’t helping Koen come to terms with the incident.

“I’ll do it,” Clay voiced loudly and nodded. “Stay here and help Florence.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and excused himself from the kitchen.

“Blossom.” Koen smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

It was apparent that he was still reeling from everything. His time away with Clay hadn’t helped his confidence. I held my hand out and waited for him to circle the table.

“What happened that day?” I asked him. He had been tip-toeing around telling me.

Koen swallowed and pulled his hand from mine. “Nothing.”

“Oh, well that’s how I know you’re lying,” I say, motioning to his hand leaving mine.

He started to unpack the bags and put things on the counter absent-mindedly. I followed behind him closely, putting everything in its proper place and noticed that they had bought some things I’d never seen before.

“What is this?” I asked him, holding up a white and blue box and shaking it gently to get his attention.

“Oh, Baby,” Koen’s eyes lit up, forcing a smile to his face. He slid back to me and popped the box open, tearing the plastic with his teeth and pulling a small cake-looking log from inside. “This is heaven. Open up.” He cupped his hand and set the end of the cake on my tongue.

I wrapped my lips around it and closed my eyes, brows pinching together as the icing melted on my tongue and sweet vanilla coated my mouth. A low moan left my throat and, when my eyes fluttered open, Koen was staring at me with blown pupils and the devil's grin on his face.

“You’ve got—” He set the cake down and cupped my face, bringing his lips to the corner of my mouth and kissing it slowly. “—icin’.” He licked his lips as he pulled away, thumb brushing away the rest of the icing he missed with his mouth.

“You’re good at that,” I whispered.

“At what?” He narrowed his eyes on me.

“Avoiding the question.” I looped a finger into his to hold him in place as he started to back away at my words. “What happened that’s got you all in knots, Koen?”

“Everything went sideways during the hunt that shouldn’t have. He should have just brought Clay. We were so angry with each other.” Koen sighed. Once the floodgates opened he didn’t know how to stop. “I was so busy being pissed off at him that we got ambushed from behind. It was my fault we were outnumbered, all because I got distracted.”

Koen’s green eyes looked painfully sad when he looked up to meet mine.

“And then.” he swallowed and looked away from me in an effort to hide the tears welling in his eyes. “They had turned a few kids and we couldn’t leave them there, but Wes was hurt, and I had…” He cleared his throat and I waited for him to finish. “I’ve never had to kill a kid before, monster or not. That…”

“Koen.” I wrapped my hand around his face and tugged his attention back to mine, the sun illuminating the raw pain in his expression. “There is nothing I can say to erase the pain you feel but, for the time being, until it fades…” I took a long, deep breath in. “Find comfort in the fact that you saved Wesley; he’s alive because of you .”

“But those kids,” he choked out.

“Weren’t children anymore. You said it yourself.”

I knew that he would latch onto the undertones of the conversation, his jaw twitching tightly as he realized. Monsters come in all shapes and sizes.

His eyes widened as a quiet thought turned loud.

“I won’t do that,” he snapped with conviction. “It doesn’t matter, I won't, I’ll stand between him. I won’t let him do that to you.”

“We’re talking about real monsters, Koen. Not me.”

“It's all the same to him.” He gently shook his head, eyes darting from mine to the floor.

“We don’t have to worry about that for now.” I scrunched my nose at him. “Finish with those. Dinner is almost ready and I want my presents.”

I could see him packing away the heavy emotions and letting the smile come back to his face, but he was still so sad and there was very little I could do to help ease that short of turning back time. Koen helped set the table and Clay managed to help Wesley limp down the stairs and to the dining room to eat.

“You even wore pants. How kind of you,” I quipped when he arrived in the room in sweatpants that rode low on his hips and a plaid shirt he left unbuttoned.

“Clay gave me a sponge bath, so I didn’t stink,” he grumbled and slumped into the chair.

Clay’s eyebrows raised as he looked between us. “Did you two just make jokes?”

“Don’t read into it.” Wesley leaned back in the chair and waited for me to plate him some food. “I’m here for food that isn’t rotted through to its core. It only says fresh when she makes it.”

Koen’s face scrunched up in confusion, a small smile playing on his lips.

“They killed the last ghoul,” Clay said to Koen, whose head whipped in my direction. “It showed up while we were gone to finish us off, and Florence helped little Miss Sunshine. ”

“I helped Florence,” Wesley interjected as he adjusted in the chair and rested on the table.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know how to operate the car,” I noted. “And Wesley was in no condition to help me move it.” I set the bowl of butter-soaked carrots down.

“What did you do with the body?” Clay asked. His forearms flexed on the dining table as he leaned over to catch my gaze.

“Can we not discuss the details over dinner?” I asked him, but he wasn’t going to budge. He stared at me with those stern eyes, more gray than blue today, and waited. Holding dinner hostage until he was informed of every detail. “I spread it around the grounds.” Wesley choked on his water.

“What do you mean… spread?” Koen asked, unable to hide the surprised tone.

“I dismembered its body and buried the pieces in the soil as far from the house as I could get.” I swallowed the nausea that rose, thinking about how carefully I had to creep around the grounds. A few missteps ended in me with bruises so big and sore I cared not to disclose them.

“You …chopped him up?” Wesley asked crudely, setting down his glass and narrowing his eyes at me.

“Was I supposed to leave him in the foyer?” I questioned.

“You could have waited,” Koen scoffed. “We could have helped. You shouldn’t have made her do that.” His words jumbled together as his head whipped toward Wesley.

“I didn’t make her do anything!” He defended himself and pointed at his bandaged arm.

“We would have done it.” Koen turned back to me, his arm extended as his fingers brushed over my forearm.

“I know it’s not very ladylike but there are more than enough books on human anatomy in the library. I think I’ve proven I’m quite good with bodies and it kept me busy.” I said like my mind was slowly breaking down from the memory of the violence.

“You’re a—, Florence…not a…” Clay tilted his head to the side, stumbling over his words.

“A murderer?” I finished for him.

“I was going to say Lady.”

“It seems that even after a hundred or more years of living, there are still things you can learn about yourself. He was going to kill Wesley. I had no choice,” I said with a curt nod.

The men went quiet as eyes fell on Wesley at the other end of the table from me. I was surprised to see that his hazel eyes were not narrowed harshly as was their typical fashion. They were almost soft and void of anything but what looked like guilt as he nodded at me.

“Now, if you're finished, you must be hungry from your drive and I would like to hear about the hunt you were on.” I bundled my skirts in my hands and sunk into my chair, but none moved for a long moment, locked in some sort of silent conversation I wasn’t privy to. “Eat, please.