The Writing Retreat(44)

“Fuck you,” I snarled, and ran the rest of the way up.

Back in the light of the kitchen, I felt a pang of humiliation, then anger. They—whoever they were—had wanted to scare me, to make me look stupid. I stalked back to the parlor. Taylor, Keira, and Roza were chuckling. I noted with grim satisfaction that Wren and Poppy were missing.

“Where are they?” I pointed to the love seat where they’d been sitting.

Everyone stared, displeased, like I was a raccoon who’d wandered into the house.

“What happened?” Taylor asked.

Then the sound of Wren’s laughter reached me and she and Poppy strolled in.

“It was you guys.” I turned on them. “How did you come down without me hearing?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Wren resumed her place on the love seat.

“Wait, what’s going on? What happened?” Poppy sat beside her.

“You followed me down to scare me.” I put my hands on my hips.

“Hey, sit down.” Taylor came over and touched my shoulder. “Tell us what happened.”

I explained, watching Wren’s placid expression.

“Ah.” Roza nodded. “Darling, it can be very drafty down there. I’m sure you just saw a sheet or something moving as the air blew the candle out.” She looked pleased with herself. “But this game can really make you see things.”

“But…” What I’d seen in the mirror hadn’t been a fluttering sheet—it had been moving purposefully. But it had been more a motion than anything else.

“That sounds scary as hell,” Taylor said. “Want a drink?”

“No,” I sighed, feeling drained. “I’m okay.”

Wren was looking purposefully away, but Poppy continued to watch me with huge, concerned eyes. A flash of embarrassment blossomed in my chest. I could imagine Wren slipping down to the basement to mess with me. But not Poppy.

“Maybe it was just a draft.” I tried to smile. Then a new question formed. “Where’s Yana?”

“She went to bed. It’s past her bedtime.” Roza grinned. “Why, you think she went down to play a trick on you?”

“No…” Yana was unfriendly, but I couldn’t imagine her sneaking behind boxes, avoiding the mice. “I just… I’m sorry.”

“Get some rest, darling.” Roza stood. “Taylor, I’ll declare you the winner of this game. Let’s go have a nightcap.”

“Sure!” Taylor jumped up. Wren looked up in surprise and glared at me.

She’d really thought she could use my story to win.



* * *



That night I startled awake, facing the door. Someone was walking by in the hall, the footsteps rapid and noisy. Still half-asleep, I turned on my lamp, slipped out of bed. and tiptoed to the door. In the light spilling out from my door, I could just make out someone hurrying along.

Something was wrong.

I followed, trotting down the dark hallway.

“Wait!” I squeaked, keeping my voice down so as not to wake the others. It felt important. This person was in trouble, desperate trouble, and I needed to help.

The figure scuttled along even more quickly, turning out of sight to the landing. I jogged faster, determined to catch up.

But when I reached the landing, no one was there. I walked slowly to the banister. The gray and white marble floor made a beautiful mandala, crossed with moonbeams shining in from the front hall windows. The circular table was almost directly below, topped with a vase of pink roses.

As I studied it, warm arms slipped around my waist. The arms were bare, pearlescent and glowing in the moonlight. Hard nipples pressed like pebbles into my back.

“Finally.” The voice was barely a whisper in my ear. Shock and confusion held me in place. A heavy jasmine scent filled my nostrils.

“Roza?” I ventured. I felt blurry, unable to fully understand what was happening, as if I’d been drugged.

The woman chuckled. “Don’t you know me?”

“Wren?” I started to turn around, but her arms tightened. I inhaled with surprise.

“You’ve wanted me for such a long time, haven’t you, Al?” There was a smile in her low voice. “Long before that night.”

“Wren, what the fuck?” I muttered. I wanted to pull away, but part of me felt oddly cozy in this tight embrace.

“Remember what it felt like?” Her breath was heavy in my ear. “What I did to you?”

“Why?” I asked, suddenly mournful. “Why did you do it?”

“What? You want to hear that I was in love with you?” She scoffed. “I did it because I could. Because you were my little pet and I could do whatever I wanted to you.”

“Okay.” I shifted but her arms were like a vise.

“I saw the way you looked at me. You wanted to consume me. You wanted to kill me. It was such a fun game, wasn’t it?” Her left hand drifted up and her thumb gently stroked my nipple through my tank top. I felt a stirring in my groin.

“Do you want me to stop?” She pinched, gently.

And even though I couldn’t believe this was happening, I didn’t want her to stop.

“No,” I sighed.

“And this?” Her other hand lowered, snuck inside the waistband of my pajama pants.