First Kiss Page 10

  “Mary’s house. My grandmother in Lakeland.”

  He sighs, “I thought you were the key, you and this mirror.”

  I nod once, letting his words sink in, "Because I am part of the whole curse?" His eyes narrow. I sigh, "My family being the Lakes, Lachlans, whatever. I am part of the cursed family so you thought I could help you?"

  He nods slowly, "Yes, indeed, but not the Lakes. That’s what I’m trying to tell you . . . not the Lakes. You’re not a Lake."

  I shake my head, still in a daze, "You’re wrong. Mary has tried forever to say I am not her granddaughter. But I am. I am exactly like them, cursed and doomed to live a tortured life. I can’t break your curse. I can’t even break my own. I don’t have anything except the ability to wreck a garden and make boys who kiss me die."

  We both look around as the house starts to look decrepit again. He flinches, "I can see that I am making this worse. You have to remember on your own, like your sister said you would. I will leave you to mull this over and see if you can’t find a solution to our problem. See if some memories don’t find their way to you. I will see you at dinner." He turns and leaves the room. I am alone and lost, more than normal. I still cannot properly feel afraid, but my heart is pounding and my mouth is dry. My sister told him that? He knew her? She was a baby when she died—he must be mistaken. Of course, my mother came up here to die with them. Maybe she told them about Rosie? No, that doesn’t even make sense.

  A dark thought crosses my mind. What if they killed my mother? What will I do? Will I be stuck here forever like them, frozen as a cursed girl, or will they kill me too?

  But even worse in my mind, what if I am not cursed? I think my heart breaks, but I can't be sure. Have I lived a half-life, suffering under a curse that isn’t real?

  Is it possible?

  What if I am not a Lake, and I can make the mirror show me the way home, the real way home? What if I have a home? Typical dreams of an orphan who has spent her life being feared and hated. We always try to see the magical answer that will free us and bring us the love we crave.

  No, I am a Lake monster, like all of the females in my family. I get up, fleeing for the safety of my room. I lie there, letting the room spin. How has it all come to be? I pick up the guitar from the corner and start to play, singing Baylor. The song feels different when I sing it here, like the song was made for the house or the house was made for me. As I sing, my room slowly becomes darker and more like it belongs in an old haunted house.

  One thing stands out more than anything else—who is he? I swear I know him. The master is not someone I would have forgotten, and yet, it seems I have.

  I drift off to sleep eventually, plagued by bad dreams and the realization I have missed my birthday. Does that make me nineteen or not?

  Regardless of everything, I am leaving tomorrow.

  Chapter Seven

  A scream wakes me from sleep. I jump up, clutching the blankets to my trembling body. The scream happens again. I jump from the bed, running down the stairs in my nightgown. When I get to the bottom, I see the front door is open. The snow glistens on the ground, but the air is warm and smells of spring. I dash out into the snow in my slippers. Heidi is out in the yard when I get there.

  She looks back at me, her eyes growing fierce, "What have you done?"

  I shake my head, "What?"

  She sobs, pointing at the forest. Tim is in a tree with huge black wolves surrounding him. I run for the ax that is stuck in the chopping block to the right.

  She cries, "He is beyond the border. You can't get to him."

  I am out of breath and running, ignoring her, when I too cross the border. I swing the ax, as if I have done it a thousand times. The wolves see me, turning their attention from Tim. The first one lunges at me. I swing my ax, hitting it in the jaw. It cries out and leaps to the side. The second one comes at me but leaps away as I swing the ax again. I scream at them, "YOU GET OUT OF HERE!"

  They snarl and back away.

  Suddenly Alex is there with a torch. He holds it out, waving it at them. The wolves back away, while still giving us a deathly stare. I run for the tree, holding my arms up, "Come down, quickly."

  He cries and trembles as he makes an attempt to come down. The wolves make a noise in the forest, stopping him in his tracks. He shakes his head. I toss the ax at Alex's feet and climb the tree. The bark scrapes my hands but I make my way to where he sits. I lift his chin, smiling at his teary eyes, "You're safe. I promise."

  He swallows nervously, looking about the forest. I wrap my arms around him, kissing his forehead. He doesn’t melt into me the way Rosie did. He is tense and awkward, like he doesn’t want me to hug him. I pull back, "Ready to get out of the tree?"

  He nods and starts climbing, I almost think as much to get away from me. He jumps down, bolting for his mother's embrace. She drops to her knees, hugging him and crying.

  Alex gives me a glare, "The border is gone?"

  I shrug, "What border? What does that even mean?”

  He shakes his head, "We have never been able to leave except on the fall equinox. The animals have never come in before."

  I scowl, "What? How does the food get delivered then?"

  His eyes dart, "It doesn’t matter. Get back to working on that curse, curse girl." He stalks off, putting the ax back on the chopping block. I sigh and walk back to the house, glancing nervously in the direction the wolves went. Why did Heidi ask me what had I done? What had I done? I’d slept, hadn’t I? I look around at the water dripping off of the mansion and sigh, it is spring. The time moves too quickly, which if I'm honest, isn’t such a bad thing. Being trapped in a weird house with the people and the curses for a whole year would be death if time moved at real speed. I don’t know if it's me wishing away the time, or if it just moves this quickly here. I watch them all walk away from me and try hard not to hate them, or the house.

  I am ready to leave this house and it’s nonsense and lies behind. I don’t even care about the money anymore, but I do want the truth. I need to know what he meant by my sister told him that. I don’t see how Rosie could have told him anything.

  I don’t understand anything, and I feel like an outsider for the first time here, but I just need the truth. Then I can put this all behind me. The money isn’t as important as my sanity.

  I slip back into the house and walk to the study. I remember the last time I felt happy, before this house. I run my fingers along the mirror, "Show me Bash."

  The mirror fuzzes out but nothing comes. There is no picture, only my pale face and shiny red hair. Does that make him dead? My stomach ache is back. I sigh, "Show me Brandon."

  The mirror instantly shows me what looks like a movie. Brandon is walking down Main Street. He has his university hoodie on and he's laughing. Sarah comes running over. She jumps into his arms, kissing him and pulling him into the pub. Damn, they’re dating? The whole world has moved on.

  "Show me Bash, please."

  It has been nearly a year, even if it feels like a month to me, and I cannot shake him. He has been there in my heart the whole time.

  I frown, maybe Bastion wasn’t his name. Maybe he wasn’t Brandon's cousin. Maybe it was a dream and he was never real. He was part of the curse, torture for my soul. My poor damned soul.

  "Show me Sam."

  The mirror does its fuzzy thing and suddenly I see him. He strolls down a sidewalk that must be in Boston. He looks so proper and strong. His throat looks normal, the scarring is minimal. He walks, looking in the windows like he is shopping. He walks into a store, a coffee house, and buys a coffee to go. Just one. He is still single maybe.

  I wonder if I ever really loved him, if it was more than a crush. I suspect it was more than a crush, it lasted a decade. But since meeting Bastion, there has only been one person in my heart.

  "Show me the guy I can’t stop thinking about."

  The mirror goes fuzzy again and instantly I see something odd. Like I am looking through the eyes of someon
e behind me. My back and my shiny red hair are there instead of a face. But then it clears more, and in the mirror is Bastion's face, looking down on me. I turn and there is the master, staring at me. His jaw drops, "What have you done?"

  I look back at the mirror; Bastion’s reflection in it is exactly as I remember him. I jump up and run to him but he backs away. I grab his ragged face and pull it down, looking into his dark eyes. There I see it, the same grey. I gasp, "How?"

  He looks terrified or confused. He pushes me away, "Stay back."

  I drop to my knees, staring at the floor as he flees from the room, making the whole house shake as his footsteps pound the wooden floors.

  Bastion is the master.

  The boy who saved me is the man who bribed me to stay here?

  The shock covers me for a moment as I try to see it all. The cousin who Brandon never knew he had was only in Lakeland for less than a single week, before he disappeared as quickly as he had come.

  My stomach aches and my heart hurts, but I can’t reach my feelings, not properly. I get up from the floor, ignoring the tears streaming down my face, and run up the stairs. I imagine it’s the way he has gone, but I don’t care. I have to see what is in that room.

  I burst through the door on the left-hand side of the hall, with the wind blowing so hard I can barely stand against it.

  The room beyond the door is destroyed. There is nothing but broken furniture and scratched walls. I look out the broken windows as the cold spring rain barrels in. On the deck, I can see his back. He's shaking, maybe crying or angry—I can’t tell. I glance about the room, seeing something I recognize instantly. On the wall sits a flawless painting of Bastion. No scars and no scratches. His hair is perfectly coifed and his face is handsome. He looks regal and old fashioned in it. I walk towards it, fingers out and shaking. I lift my hand, brushing it against the painting.

  I know the work. I recognize it beyond the handsome face in the painting. I swear, I have seen it before; I watched it being painted. I swear it. My thumb brushes along the bottom lip and I can almost taste the kiss.

  "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HAVE YOU NOT CAUSED ENOUGH PAIN?"

  I jump as he walks to me. His body shakes and trembles. I cower, not bold and cocky anymore but scared and confused. "What is this? How am I here? Why didn’t you tell me who you were? Why are you so weird with me now? You slept in my room at Mary’s. You defended me to-to-to everyone. WHAT IS THIS?" The words leave my quivering lips in sobs and shaking screams.

  He drops to his knees, still shaking and shivering, "Leave."

  “You knew she stole my money? That’s how you knew I needed money for New York. You brought me here and bribed me on purpose. Did you give Mary my money? Did you kill my mom when she came up here?” I lean into his face, I want to see the truth in his eyes. But when his face lifts, his eyes are yellow and frightening. His face ripples as though it’s made of water, "RUN!"

  I see teeth first, sharp and jagged. The wind blasts me through the window as he screams for me to run again. I am up and out the door before he can finish the word run. The door slams behind me. I run to the mirror, desperate to see what I cannot behind the door. My knees scrape along the floor, "Show me the guy who I can’t stop thinking about.”

  I do not cry. I do not whimper. I do not make a sound as I watch his flesh stretch and rip from his body, as he shifts into a creature so hideous, I cannot bear to take my eyes from it.

  He is a monster and a mess.

  Master Monstreau.

  I watch as he leaps from the window, howling in the yard and sprinting off into the woods. There are no words to explain the feelings I maintain for him, nor the confusion I feel. I curl into a ball and watch as he runs through the dark woods. I watch him until I cannot stay conscious.

  I wake, not realizing I have slept. My face is sticky with drool and my back aches from the floor in front of the mirror. I know I watched him until my eyes fluttered and my heart fully broke. He had downed a deer and eaten it like an animal might have.

  His temper and scars make sense. His strength to carry me so many blocks from the school that day makes sense. But what he is makes no sense at all. I cannot wrap my head around it.

  I push myself up and am about to ask the mirror to see him, but he is there. He is staring at me from the mirror. He is whole and normal and Bastion, the way I remember him. When I turn, I see the dark eyes of the scarred man I have come to love in a way I cannot understand.

  Tears fill my eyes when I see the way he looks at me. I look back at the mirror; is he in the room for real or am I hallucinating?

  "You prefer that version of me?"

  My mouth opens and my answer surprises me, "I prefer the truth. If what you are in the mirror is a lie, then I prefer the man with the scars."

  He smiles, "Don’t say things like that. You make all of this harder."

  I turn away from the perfect guy, choosing to see the man with the outside that matches my inside. "What do I make harder? What are you and why am I here? What is this house? What is your real name? Why doesn’t the mirror show me you, when I ask for Bash? Who are you?"

  “My name is Prince Bastion.” He laughs, "I am a werewolf and a prince, you are a witch from an evil bloodline, and this house is your sister’s spell."

  I frown, "What? My sister is dead, you ass—and she was only a few years old when she died. She wasn’t a witch. My family’s curse isn’t my fault. Whatever someone in my family did to you, is not my fault and it was not me. My mother came up here and died. Now I want the truth, and I want it now. Start from the beginning."

  He nods, "A year ago, I came to you in hopes of winning you over and getting you to come and help free us. I changed my mind when I saw how horrible your life was. I realized then, you had no memories of before and were most likely unable to help us. Your sister, in the wind, told us you wouldn’t remember but that it would come back to you as the power of your family filled you. But then I met you. You were sweet and nothing like them. I knew you were not the thing we were looking for. I knew you were an innocent person, free of the evil of your family, and less likely to find our cure.”

  “My sister in the wind? Rosie? You can feel her too?”

  He nods, “If that’s her name. She never told us her name. Just that she was your sister and trying to help you help us. You see, we believe we need the dark arts to break the dark curse. I don’t think it makes you less of a witch. Your affect on the house proves your magic, but I believe your heart to be pure. When I gave up and came home empty-handed, Lance came for you. He has a wife and child he has not seen this last ten years; he was desperate.”

  “One thing at a time. You’re losing me. Who the hell is Baylor?”

  “Your sister, my brother’s fiancé, or rather wife now. We have been here ten years; I imagine she has gotten her wicked way and is married to my brother, who is now king of our people.”

  My mouth drops open but nothing comes out. He sighs, “I wanted you to free us, free me. Every fall equinox, we get a week to roam from the borders. Almost as if the magic can’t be contained for that week. The house changes randomly and the borders are gone. Normally, we try to explore a bit and look for ways to get home. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d had pizza in Bangor. I had. But this was the first time in ten long years that as the borders randomly dissolved in the spring—at the same time they did, so did my scars. Usually, I stay hidden in the carriage as we travel in the fall, trying to find our way home. People can’t see it, for whatever reason. The carriage is hidden from the rest of the world.” He runs a hand across his face, “Anyway, when I knew I could see you without frightening you, I fled to the town. I hoped meeting me would spark your memory. I reached Brandon’s parents’ store first.” A subtle smile crosses his lips, “The wind whispered a lie to me—a story. She said, when I met Brandon, he and his family would believe it. She had worked on it already with glamour and it would buy me the time I needed to find you.”

  “That’s how
you became Brandon’s cousin? How were you able to leave in the spring?”

  “I don’t know. For a decade everything has been the same; this was the first time something was different. For us, different is good.”

  I smile, knowing exactly how that feels. “So you came to town to see me and pretended to be someone you weren’t? Why didn’t you just come and tell me who you were?”

  He laughs, “How crazy would that have sounded?”

  I nod, “It still sounds crazy.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So you thought being someone I would let into my life was smart?” My chest hurts. I had liked him so much. I think I still do, regardless of the insanity and lies.

  He nods, “I knew if I found you and made you believe that you would want to help us go home. I hoped you would want to go home. I am your king—it is your duty to assist me. But it was worse than I expected. Not only did you not remember me, you were very different. I saw it on your face. You were just a lost girl. I gave up hope then.”

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about. I want the truth and this sounds crazy. Start at the beginning and stop lying to me.” My tone is getting spicy.

  He sighs, “You have been told lies and your memories have been stolen, but it has never been me doing it. You didn’t know me when we met before. I saw that plain as day on your face.”

  I shake my head, rattling my brain a little, “Bash, just stop. I think you have me confused with someone else.”

  “You are the girl I need. Trust me. You have gotten rid of the borders and you are identical to Baylor in almost every way.”

  I shake my head, "I don’t understand. I know you are a beast and I am cursed, but I don’t understand the rest. It’s not possible. King of what land and where is this land? Is it like Alice in Wonderland? Do we fall through a hole? I don’t get it. I think the scars and the injuries are more serious than you think."

  He smiles, "You will. You were but ten years old when we came to this terrible place. You have aged where we have not. We have spent ten years here, not leaving the house except once a year. The food shows up in the pantry, the furnishings and state of the house change according to your mood, as does the yard, and I think maybe even the season."