Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(21)
"Sure, no problem. I'll be at your place in a half hour." Victoria swore she could hear him laughing under his breath.
It was still unseasonably warm, so she chose a simple sundress embroidered with pink flowers and tiny green vines. She toyed with a braided green necklace, and then tossed it aside before opening the music box to the tinny sounds of Moonlight Sonata. Her fingers brushed over the red velvet case and she felt the amulet's magnetic pull. She hadn't worn it since that day she'd started reading the journal. She held it in her fingers, watching the light dance off its facets. She remembered Leto's words.
You are who you are.
Everything she'd read in the journal had terrified her. Despite her underlying apprehension, with a deep breath, Victoria fastened the clasp and felt the amulet drop to rest against her chest. There was no doubt in her mind—she felt complete.
The buzzer rang, and she tucked the diamond into the bodice of her dress, giving herself a cursory look in the bathroom mirror. Her hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders and with the exception of some gloss and mascara, her face was bare. Victoria frowned. She looked like she was thirteen but it was too late to go for a more sophisticated look. Christian Devereux was a courtesy date, nothing more. She slipped on some ballet flats and made her way downstairs.
Christian stood leaning against her car across the street, looking boyishly casual in his dark blue Diesel jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. She forced herself to not stare at him as she unlocked the car doors. Once again, she felt her heart flip-flop as she realized he was staring at her. Its pace tripled. Did all girls react this foolishly to him? His smile was warm as he opened her door, and then let himself in on the other side. It was ridiculous how flustered he made her feel. He wasn't even her type! The amulet flared but her skin was already so warm, she barely even felt it.
"So carsickness, was it?" A hint of a smile curved his lips, and Victoria swallowed guiltily as she started driving.
"Yes, it's very bad," she said, proud of the conviction in her voice.
"I thought that usually happens in the back seat?"
"Um, yes, usually, but mine is ... unusual." Her mouth twitched. She refused to look at him and could feel her ears burning hot.
"So tell me something about yourself, Tori. You are quite the mysterious one."
She shot a sideways glance at him to see if he was joking. His body was angled as far away from her as possible against the door but he was watching her expectantly. His eyes were twinkling with amusement so she relaxed.
"You mean apart from knocking people over just by thinking about it?" she said.
"We could start with that if you want." His voice was amused but there was an edge to it.
"Well, I've never actually done that before ... I mean as in meaning to do it. You know, not to hurt you, but to do it." Her words were halting and flustered. "I mean something like it happened before but I think it was instinctive. Sorry, what I mean is that I wasn't thinking about doing it at the time." She glanced at him, embarrassed.
But Christian just nodded, his expression carefully neutral. Victoria peeked at him again. He was staring at her thoughtfully, his lower lip between his teeth. He had that look in his eyes again, the one that made her feel like a fly caught in a spider's web.
She looked away and kept driving with her eyes on the road. It was a straightforward trip on I-95 to Portland and after a while, they made easy small talk to pass the time. She told him about her childhood in New York, and how she had ended up in Millinocket with Holly after the accident. For some reason, she even told him about her time at St. Xavier's, which she hadn't really talked about with anyone, and glossed over the bits she felt didn't really need explaining.
"You were protecting yourself, that's all," he said, after she'd told him what had happened with Brett. "He got off lucky." His lips had thinned, and if Victoria didn't know better, she'd guess that her story had made him angry on her behalf. His odd reaction made her feel flustered and warm again. The rest of the drive passed quickly and before long, they were at the museum.
They walked leisurely through the exhibit—Landscapes from the Age of Impressionism—enjoying the featured en plein air easel paintings of Monet, Boudin, and Childe Hassam. Christian explained that the tradition of working outdoors with changing light conditions, typical of the Impressionism Movement, meant that colors, textures, shadows and shapes changed from moment to moment, creating subtle differences in the end result of the works. He knew a lot about the artists and of the period in general, and his anecdotes about each of the various paintings made the experience an enlightening and memorable one for Victoria.
"I love Monet. He is one of my favorite painters ... sometimes I imagine myself escaping into his landscapes." She said it so quietly that it was almost a whisper, but Christian still heard her as they finished up the exhibit.
"He was very talented, and was happiest at his home in Giverny. Some of his best work came from painting his own gardens, like Water Lilies," he said. His voice was nostalgic.
"You almost sound like you knew him," Victoria said.
"You could say that my family knew his," he said, ushering her out to the street. "Why don't we walk? There are a couple of good restaurants just around the corner. It's not far. Are you cold?"
The night air had cooled considerably and Christian moved closer to her, putting his arm lightly on her shoulders. His body was not that much warmer than hers but she could feel the heat flood her body at his touch. She didn't have to look at him to know that he was smiling at her as the color bloomed across her shoulders. The scent of gardenias permeated the air. Victoria felt incredibly self-conscious, and she pulled her hair around her shoulders in a protective shroud.