The Vile Endowments: Warrior of Shadows (A Mortal Instruments Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

    

          Before entering the house, Ciera took a few calming breathes then walked through the threshold. Jane stood in the kitchen with Saoirse, a thermometer in the girl's mouth. "Incredible," Jane murmured. "It seems your temperature has gone back down. I suppose you can return to school tomorrow."

          Ciera looked cynically at Saoirse after Jane removed the thermometer and turned to rinse under the sink facet. Her sister just grinned then mouthed, hot tea.

          Under the strict orders of their mother, the two girls bustled around the kitchen to prepare dinner, the main course being a roasted chicken. As Ciera shook the packet of marinating sauce, Saoirse stuck her hands into the chicken. "But I don't want to be cooked!" she squawked with the poultry on her hands like a puppet. "No! No! I wanna see the world!"

          Ciera began to laugh as Jane narrowed her eyes. "Saoirse, food is not a toy. And don't touch the food if you are sick! Especially if it's raw,"  she said and turned back to stir the side dish of pasta.

          "Yes Momma," Saoirse lowered her gaze and gently placed the chicken back in the pan. She shot a grin at Ciera once more.

           "So is Dad working late tonight?" Ciera asked after glancing back at the kitchen clock. Every once in a while her father chose to work a little overtime with the pharmaceutical packaging company for which he worked, fixing machines and other equipment. She wondered if tonight she would have a chance to talk to him about... God, just thinking the word made her terribly depressed. How would her father feel to realize his daughter, who has grown up healthy and strong, was sick once again?

          Jane glanced up at the clock with furrowed eyebrows. "I-I don't think so. He would have called or told me so in advance-"

          The front door banged open and Matthew Prescott strode into the room. "I'm home!" he hollered with his arms raised.

          "Dad!" Saoirse bounded into her father's arms and laughed when he  swung her up into a hug. Ciera, feeling a sting in the back of her eyes, showed a smile before turning back to dress the chicken. Now was not the time to have her father see her cry, not with Jane the gossip queen lurking about.

          "Honestly, how many times do I have to say it? Inside voices!" Jane cried out but wore a smile on her face.

          At that, Matthew set Saoirse down. "Hmm, I think we should listen to your mother," he said and held his finger to his lips. He tip-toed into the kitchen where he playfully planted a kiss on his wife's cheek, "What's cooking?"

          "Roasted chicken," Ciera gestured as her father kissed the top of her head. Somehow her father managed to lighten her spirits like flipping a switch, and he did it just by appearing into the room. He hovered beside her, his hand resting on the counter edge as he inspected the raw bird. She glanced down and noted the rusty color under his fingernails, as if he had stuck his hands in a bucket of paint and missed the flecks under his nails when washing off. "Dad, is that blood under your nails?"

          "Blood?" Jane cried in a panicked voice and began to fan herself.

          "No, no! It's just rust from a machine I was working on," he said and snatched his wife's hand to pat it. Ciera opened her mouth to apologize, but her father shot an angry glare over his shoulder, freezing her in her tracks. "Jeez, Ciera. Do you want to give your mother a heart attack?"

          She shut her mouth in shock. Her father never spoke to her like that before, and never referred to Jane as her mother. He knew exactly how she felt about replacing her real mother. "Excuse me?" she said incredulously.