Invisible string~ Matthew Fairchild {1}

Fifteen

Amelia and Anna picked up Cordelia at precisely nine o'clock. The red-headed girl was bundled in her coat, despite the warmness of the evening.

She got into the carriage, her eyes landing on Anna. "Thank you," she breathed. "The dresses are lovely."

Anna waved the comment off. "It was nothing. A werewolf seamstress owed me a favor, and Matthew helped me pick out the fabric."

Amelia frowned. "Do you not trust my fashion expertise?"

"I do, but you are always busy."

Amelia frowned and turned her gaze to the window, tuning out of the conversation and allowing her thoughts to consume her as they often did.

She found that she was quite excited to go to the Hell Ruelle; it would serve as a distraction from Amelia's life. She always needed something to do, however pointless the task. Often, this was training or writing poetry. Not that she didn't enjoy those things, but that was all Amelia had been doing for weeks. She found she desperately needed an escape.

The carriage clambered to a halt. Amelia got out of the carriage, eager to forget her thoughts. The air was full of shadow and fog as voices conversing in dozens of languages encircled her. She did not bother to try making sense of it; some things were more beautiful if left unanalyzed.

Cordelia nearly fell out of the carriage, but James was there in an instant, his arm around her waist in order to prevent her from falling.

James set her on her feet but did not move his hands from Cordelia's hips. They both stood there for a long moment, not saying anything until Matthew broke the silence. "Cordelia. You look different."

Amelia scoffed. "Different? Matthew, she looks stunning."

"We better go in," said James, finally removing his hands from Cordelia and stuffing them in his pockets.

Amelia fell into step with Matthew, who linked their arms together as they followed Anna. "You look beautiful," he whispered.

"You flatter me too much," she replied softly, shivering at the feeling of his eyes on her.

"Is it still flattery if it is the truth?"

Amelia didn't have time to come up with a witty comeback, as they had reached the doors of the Hell Ruelle. The group was recognized immediately and let in without a word.

Anna led them to the center chamber, which looked vastly different from the last time Amelia had seen it. Hypatia Vex stood in front of a painting that depicted a black-haired woman holding a black owl with eyes the same color as James'. But she was not alone: a werewolf with green-gold eyes stood by her, making polite conversation.

Amelia recognized him as Claude Kellington, the master of entertainment at the Hell Ruelle. He was getting awfully close to Hypatia, his hand playing with a strap on her dress.

"Anna," Amelia called. "It seems you have some competition."

Anna narrowed her eyes, turning towards Matthew. "Distract him."

He winked and made his way through the crowd. Amelia couldn't help but watch him as he said a few words to Kellington, who rose and followed Matthew through the crowd. James and Amelia exchanged an amused look at Matthew's satisfied grin.

"Please don't tell me the four of you have some sort of act," Kellington huffed. "Nobody wishes to see Nephilim singing and dancing."

Anna had already slipped away before Matthew spoke. "Actually, Amelia here said she wished to recite some of her poetry."