Chapter 22: Cracks

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Like a maniac, I jumped off the bed, and rushed through the door, pressing the phone against my ear with the other hand.

"Dorian!" I shouted, running through the hallway and down the stairs. "We have a problem!"

The phone rang in my ear. The best case scenario was Jax ignoring me because I ignored him. The worst case scenario – he couldn't answer because he was currently on his bike driving here.

I reached the living room, only to find Dorian standing over Doctor Martin, who was still tied to a chair, with scissors in his hand. Doctor Martin looked terrified. When Dorian saw me, his eyes widened.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I put my hands on my hips.

"Uh, trying to torture a guy without my conscience hanging over me every step of the way."

"What?" My mouth fell open. "You know what? I don't care. Jax is coming."

Dorian lowered his hands, and Martin slumped with visible relief.

"Tell him he can't come."

"He's not answering." I pointed at the phone still pressed against my ear, ringing. "What do I do?"

Dorian grunted, and kicked the chair Martin was tied to, which was the most human gesture I've seen from him. He looked terribly disappointed because I interrupted his torture.

"Come on, we're going to the basement." Dorian untied Martin, grabbed his arm, and dragged him past me.

"What am I supposed to do about Jax?" I repeated. "Your aunty is upstairs looking like a fucking graveyard, he's going to know something is off!"

"It's fine." Dorian pushed Martin out the door. "It'll take him a minute. Ecaterina will probably already be off to some pretentious Upper East Side event."

I gasped in disbelief, "Seriously? That's all I get?"

"Fix your messes, Ette."

"Dorian." I hated repeating his name so many times in one day.

He breathed out through his nose, and faced me one more time, "What? Need me to hold your hand while you explain to your boyfriend what's going on?"

"I have nothing to wear." I gestured at my attire. "I can't meet him wearing this."

Dorian eyed me, "Why not? He might not hear what you have to say."

"Come on, I need something else."

"Take whatever you need from my mother's closet."

Before I could protest, he slammed the door in my face, and I heard his curses, followed by Martin's muffled cries of distress. My heart sat heavy in my chest as I dragged myself up the stairs, still calling Jax to no avail. But Dorian was right, it would take him a while to get here, and I guess we had enough time to get rid of the eldritch horror that walked into the house.

I entered Dorian's parents' bedroom again, walked to the whitewood closet, swallowed the lump in my throat, and opened it.

I took in a deep breath, "Goddamn."

Even after all these years, the faint smell of his mother's perfume lingered inside. Tears burned in my eyes immediately, and I blinked them away, trying to stop the flashes of memories. Mrs. Ana Darascu wore the red dress with the lacy necktie to my fifteenth birthday. The black one she wore to the last Christmas we spent together-

Quickly, I opened one of the drawers and took out a plain pair of jeans. Enough, Odette.

I only needed to get out of the strawberry-patterned hot pants, and possibly find some sneakers instead of the bunny slippers. Which I did, and it was enough.

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