A Kiss at Midnight

Chapter Forty-One

A hush had long fallen over the grey stone theatre of loss and remembrance. In the distance, the bells of midnight to toil. Chrysanthemums of chiffon white to draw their warding magic like a shield at his approach. Yet he refused to yield to their demands of retreat. The wraith sank to one knee by Danika's grave, his cloak of sable black to swirl at his feet. The hood to once more to conceal his face. A shaky hand reaching out, longing to feel the soft roundness of one cheek beneath his touch only to be greeted by the cold kiss of stone.

She once slipped through his fingers but now, Danika truly was out of his grasp and there was little he could do to reverse such a thing.
A tremor to rein in his touch. The glassy sheen in his gaze to shatter, scattering tears.

"Mine," he rasped. My Danika.

Grave magic to hear the flowers' command. Its icy yet unseen touch to capture his wrists. A sharp tug caused him to stumble backwards, the force of such to disrupt the placement of his hood. It slipped just as the grave magic returned him to the shackles that kept him bound to the mortal world.

Sleep a curtain of obsidian falling over this stage of rich mahogany wood and white linens. Annalise was lying on her side, asleep. One hand tucked beside her face, the other crossing over her breasts to join it. A soft, harmonious voice to reach her ears.

"Annalise."

The shallowness of her breathing to grow into a more steady beat.

"Sister, you are the key."

The curtain of sleep to be drawn back.

"Eleanor," she mumbled. One forearm propped on her pillow as she eased herself into a sitting position. "What are you talking about at this late hour?"

Silence to be her answer. One hand reaching out to the bedside drawers. Fingers closing over a taper light before striking it against the wooden surface to light the oil lantern. The soft yellow glow to hover, unable to reveal someone who wasn't truly here.

"Oh." The softness of her voice to mask the sadness seeping out as the spear of realisation pierced her heart. A sob to crush her shoulders.

The edges were a little smudged yet her mind could still sketch the image of her sister. A ribbon of daisy white unravelling from her russet brown curls. One curl having escaped, brushed the soft roundness of one cheek. Stepping stones of copper to have one's gaze hop over the bridge of her nose and land on eyes of rich earthy eyes framed by wings of auburn. Plump lips to then draw the eye away from seeing the faint glow of silver encircling her eyes. Eleanor's hands grasping the small, chubby fingers of a then four year old Wilhelmina as she twirled her daughter across the garden of their grandmother's ancestral home, the Du Carte Estate.
Moments before Annalise repeated the words Danika once spoke on these very grounds that she was with child. Her sister's excited squeal to chase away the birds. Wilhelmina's baffled expression soon to be hidden behind skirts of rose taupe and ecru as Eleanor pulled her sister in for a hug.

The memory of which was the last time she saw Eleanor. By the time Annalise had awakened from her death like slumber many years later her sister was gone, taken by the same illness as their mother.
One hand moving to scratch at her chest as if her nails could scrape away the hurt gathering there. A light pressure to fall over her fingers and she turned to see Zane, her sob having shaken him awake.

"Annalise?"His voice soft.

"I was dreaming that Eleanor was here is all," she replied, dabbing at her eyes with the back of one hand.

His hands a gentle snare upon her wrists and she welcomed being cradled against his chest. Zane's hand to shape itself to one side of her face. He dipped his head to press a soft kiss to her cheek. At the feel of her chilled skin beneath his lips, a line appeared between his brows.