Darkness Rising

CHAPTER [ 28 ] WISTERIA BLOOMS

Coincidentally, or maybe intentionally, Kaiser used that shadow trick in the limo—the one that made the blueprints disappear. But witnessing it proved an important lesson, and helped Lenore clean up the mess she'd made in the coat room. While the shadows cast what was left of the Third into the void, the bloody mess remained.

Lenore in her haste and short on time, grabbed a few rather absorbent and fluffy looking coats from the closest rack and began to soak up the mess with them. It was the best she could do. She was thankful for her own black attire; better to hide the blood stains. After a minute, she'd given in to the fact that there was no way to get rid of the blood entirely. What she had done would have to do. At the very least it would appear to others that a violent disagreement took place but nothing deadly—and nothing out of the ordinary for the Gillard's.

The bloody blessing Lenore dug out of the Thirds remains sat heavy in her pocket. She didn't have enough time to consider if taking it was a right choice, finding her Uncle was paramount. He knew too much of their plans. A whispered curse slipped from between her teeth as she made her way back to the main room.

There was no way for her to contact the others. And the thought of using the bond after Kaiser claimed she would be a distraction—well, that was something her pride wouldn't allow. This was her mistake and it was one she needed to fix; fast.

Still cradling the mass of bloodied coats through the hallway was an issue. Lenore grabbed for a nearby door, checking the hallway both ways before poking her head into the darkened room. She called out into the pitch black, "Anyone in here?"

When no response came, she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. It didn't take much fumbling to find the light switch. Blinking, she took in the small room that she guessed was a tea room. There were built-in cabinets that displayed beautiful pieces of fine china and all sizes and shapes of tea sets.

A small table was set with empty polished trays, beautiful plates, and silverware atop cloth napkins. This was all placed next to a nook with a loveseat and chair. Lenore rushed over to the nook and dropped the coats, kicking them under the loveseat; out of sight. She took in the spectacle that was her stained, blood soaked hands.

Impatience set fire to her actions, sending her marching across the room to the table. Adrenaline surged through her blood as she snatched up a cloth napkin and began to wipe at her hands, doing her best to clean away the blood. This was the sixth life she had taken in the last week. She couldn't say she regretted any of them—and that's what left her the most unsettled. It was far too easy a thing to do. 

Lenore dropped the soiled napkin; hands mostly clean. She eyed the door, hesitating for a moment, before making her way to the lightswitch, flicking it off as she left the rest of her doubt and evidence behind.

The hallway was empty but the chatter in the main room echoed around Lenore. Her skin crawled like each sound wave was a finger prodding a sunburn. All of her awareness was focused on sensing danger; the rushing sound of her blood clogging up her ears.

This was why she didn't want this task. From the beginning Lenore knew that she was going to fuck it up. Her eyes scanned the crowd of bodies as she stood at the mouth of the hallway, none of them the face she was searching for. The Eighth and Ninth Apostle were still ensconced by their fans, completely unmoved. It gave her a tickle of relief. There was still time for damage control. 

Now, who would her Uncle turn to? 

Even if he was coming clean about traitors—he was going to have to admit that he had turned against the family, if only to save his pathetic life. Most of them wouldn't listen long enough to find out if his reason was justifiable. They would kill him, simple as that. No, he would go to someone he trusted or, at the very least, someone with a sense of reason.