The Songs Of The Flames (The Curse Of The Thirteenth Series)

Chapter 14

Priscilla awoke to the smells of cedarwood, lavender, and puke. Unfortunately, she was the one that smelled of puke. She wanted nothing more than to bury herself into the bedsheets and forget about the massive headache wanting to split her skull open. She sat up in the bed instead. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the bright room, her eyes ached. She froze when she took in the room around her. She was in a bedroom she did not recognize. The room was black with a small desk in the corner, and dark wooden floorboards. Light pooled in through the large window directly across from her. Outside, the snowy woods surrounded her. Priscilla pulled the sheets off her to see she was wearing the same blue dress Hazel had given her last night. She could not remember how she got to this room though. Imagines of last night came in a blur, she remembered a handsome gentleman she danced with, and kissing... and screaming? She shook that thought away, gulping down her fear. The night's events were hazy to her, coming in only snippets. Priscilla wished she had not drank as much as she had. 

Her bare feet touched the cold wooden floor, sending goose bumps up her body. She shuffled to the door, and peaked out. The small hallway was empty. A door across from the bedroom was propped half open revealing a bathroom. Priscilla tiptoed down the hallway to what looked like a small kitchen and living room. A loveseat sat beside a wood stove in one corner. A freshly started fire blazed in the woodstove. In the kitchen was a man smoking a cigarette. A cold breeze swept in through the open window in front of him. Priscilla examined the man's bare shoulders. Scars raked his muscular shoulders and back. Some disappeared beneath the pair of jeans around his waist.

He had not heard her enter the room, but she did not know what to do now. She wore no shoes, nor did she have the proper clothing to walk outside in the snow. Plus, she didn't even know where she was. God, what had she gotten herself into? She couldn't even remember going home with anyone.

"Uh- hello, where am I?" She asked tentatively. The bare shoulder straightened as the man stood up from leaning against the counter. A familiar face turned around making her jaw drop. "Professor Sinclair? We didn't- I mean, nothing happened, right?" She felt herself becoming heated in the cold room. She scuffed her bare toes against the wooden floor nervously.

"No." He said simply, ashing his cigarette in an ashtray beside him on the counter. He strode up to her, and she had to do everything in her power not to stare. Her face came up to his chest where a raw scar stretched from one breast to the other. "Sit down." Sinclair grabbed hold of her shoulders and dragged her to the loveseat beside the fire. She plopped down on the couch with her knees tucked under her. Her mind bubbled with confusion, but she found herself tongue tied looking at those scared muscles. She wanted to trace each scar on his body.

Sinclair left her, and began rummaging in the kitchen. Priscilla could smell coffee brewing. The room was silent the whole time he prepared it, and Priscilla found herself watching his movements. She blushed embarrassed when he turned to look at her. He came back with a cup of black coffee for her. She took the black coffee cup eagerly, sipping so as not to burn herself. Sinclair flicked his wrist, and a wooden chair arrived in front of her. He sat down with a thump, and stared at her for a few seconds. His hands were clasped together in front of him, holding the coffee. Priscilla squirmed under his scowling gaze.

"What were you thinking?" He asked her suddenly. His eyes raked over her, and she felt ashamed. She was wearing a skimpy dress, and smelled like vomit and alcohol. 

"What? What do you mean? How did I get here?" She asked confused.

"I brought you here."

"Why? Were you at the club?" Priscilla felt so confused. She wanted answers, but she also wanted to be miles and miles away from Sinclair's angry gaze. She felt like a puppy who knew they had done wrong.