Consideration for Scoundrels

EIGHT

As far as anyone had told her Celeste had not been born with any particular predisposition for trouble. But trouble always seemed to have its way of seeking her out. Now it took the form of this dark haired, bright eyed girl, who's life she'd suddenly found herself entwined with at the cost of three hundred pounds. But what kind of trouble, good or bad, would have to remain to be seen.

They'd taken a cab just outside the city, to a lush green estate at the end of a long drive set far enough away that there were no visible neighbors on either side. The O'Connell home was a echoing two stories, the foyer open in such a way that the main hallway of the second floor was visible from the bottom of the wide central staircase. But beyond thought, opened by a archway just to the right of the stairs was the crowning jewel of the home. The library, it's collection large enough to house not only more books then Celeste had ever seen in her life, but behind panels of glass, artifacts from every corner of the globe.

"This..." She stood a moment, utterly dumbstruck, her words bouncing off the white walls. "Is where you live?"

Despite being the only living souls presently in the house, it was loud. Celeste could hear a symphony of noise bouncing maniacally off the walls, voices murmuring in a dozen languages she didn't speak. But, lucky for her, she was used to this. Like any other crowded place, all she needed was a a deep breath, and a few minutes to ease herself into the noise.

Selena walked purposefully past the stairs, tossing her jacket and gloves on the black and white patterned marble floor as she went.

"No wonder you can afford the pleasure of my company." Celeste goaded. "Would've asked for more if I knew how bloody rich you were."

"My parents are rich, not me." Selena led her down the corridor, into the heart of the library.

"Tell me about this grave." Celeste's fingers resisted the temptation to dabble across the out-jutting spines of leather bound books that stretched the length of the wall. "Though it seems to me like this won't be the first to be desecrated by the clan O'Connell." She eyed the collection of artifacts careful displayed across the room, her fingers twitching with the want to touch each and every one of them.

"Are you familiar with the Tuatha de Danu?" Selena was clearing space off one of the desks, her dark hair coming loose from where she tied it back so that it was beginning to fall like a dark veil across her shoulders.

In the glass' reflection, Celeste watched her a moment, before her eyebrow quirked upwards in surprise. There was no end to surprises with this O'Connell girl so it seemed.

"I'm trying not to feel insulted."

"Well, the Church did do a relatively thorough job obliterating your history." Selena countered. "Gods became kings and saints and all that."

"And what do the forgotten Gods of Eire have to do with you falling arse over tits in a graveyard?"

Selena felt her face burning, though it could have been the bourbon still working it's way through her veins. She crossed the room, eyes intent on the bookshelf.

"Everything."

There it was...that honest earnestness in the girl's manner that had intrigued Celeste in the first place.

"Do tell."

Selena stood there, hands planted on her hips, neck craning upwards to read the spines resting on the topmost shelf. "According to my brother, there's been a potential discovery of a passage grave somewhere in the Shallows." She paused, gaze passing downward towards Celeste; "A passage grave is..."